


Cigarettes and Old Perfume

by keeping_10_people_happy_is_tricky



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Cowboys & Cowgirls, Emotional Manipulation, Eventual Charles, Eventual Relationships, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, No TB Here, Protective Siblings, Slow Burn, Step-siblings, We don't know her, general outlaw shenanigans, good things come to those who wait
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2020-01-04 14:10:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18345269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keeping_10_people_happy_is_tricky/pseuds/keeping_10_people_happy_is_tricky
Summary: She's Dutch's princess, he Dutch's son. A life spent growing and learning together leads to growth and lessons learned.When things go to plan, they're great. When they don't? Sometimes it takes more than faith to deal with that. Sometimes it takes being beside the one person who has been there from the start, and who will be there till the end.Thank god Ava has someone like that.





	1. a choice of family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> just some introductions to change a life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is my first time writing for the RDR fandom, but this ain't my first rodeo.   
> I've taken some creative liberties so if some things don't quite add up, my bad.   
> There will be more tags added as this story progresses, it is a slow-burn so please be patient. And I know that this story starts with Ava (OFC) and Arthur being raised as siblings but that will change as the story goes. It'll make more sense later.   
> For now, please enjoy and apologies for how jumpy this first chapter might feel. 
> 
> Characters aren't mine, the mistakes are :) 
> 
> unbeta'd

The first time Hosea ever saw her, the girl had been seven and perched on a wooden fence, watching the fighting competition. She had purple flowers tucked into her dark braid, like a fairy. He doesn’t remember the town, only that it was small, nor whatever job it was Dutch had coerced him into. But he will never forget the concentration on her face. The two fellas in the circle fought differently. Where the bigger man fought with brute strength and frenzied punches, the other man fought with speed. He’d duck and side-step until an opening appeared before throwing a punch and then retreating. Back and forth he went like some spritely bird with clever eyes and quick fists. Hosea had to admit that this man was a good fighter, even if he lost to a cheap hit.

The girl had watched him like a hawk.

She didn’t move even as the next pair of fighters stepped up. This time it was a pair of cock-sure fools swinging their weight around. Hosea noted how the girl’s hands tightened on the wooden fence as he leaned against it a few feet from her.

“Now I ain’t no expert on young ladies, but this don’t seem the kind of place young ladies should be.” He says it casually, calmly, as if she were a horse about to spook.

“I’m learning.”

“Learning? What are you learning from here?”

“Fighting,” she says as if Hosea is being foolish. She’s less tense now but she still looks ready to run. “What’re you here for?”

“I’m learning too, young lady. What’s got you so interested in fighting, eh? There must be better things for you to learn.”

“I can’t keep running from my brother. Not if he’s got his friends with him.”

Something bitter and angry clouds the young girl’s face, makes her look older and meaner. It breaks Hosea’s heart a little.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Ava. Yours?”

“Hosea.”

“That’s a funny name.”

“Is it? I suppose for people who haven’t heard it before. Where’s your parents, Ava?”

“Ma’s out with Mr Thorpe. They got Louise with them.”

“Louise?”

“My little sister.”

“And what about this brother of yours? Where’s he?”

“At home with his nasty friends. Thought it’d be safer to stay away till Ma and Mr Thorpe got back.”

Hosea hummed, watching the young Ava wipe her tears from her eyes a little too roughly. It was then that he noticed the red handprint on her wrist, not the size of a man’s but certainly not her own. Her brother’s, he reckoned with anger burning in the back of his throat.

They watched the next few fights together. Every now and then, Hosea pointed out a move that could’ve avoided a hit or another way to block. Ava doesn’t say anything, but Hosea knew she was listening. Her head tilted towards him each time he spoke and nodded at every piece of advice. It was nice, Hosea thought, to have a young one to teach, even if it was about fighting. Bessie would’ve loved it too.

When the fights were over, Hosea turned to ask Ava if she needed someone to take her home. She wasn’t there, gone so quietly he hadn’t noticed. But there was a little purple flower sitting on the fence where she had been.

It remained in the lapel of his vest until it accidentally fell out after a hasty escape from the law.

  
~

  
When Dutch met Ava, he was immediately fascinated.

Hosea and himself had just left a meeting with a very foolish, confident business owner who just happened to have a lot of money and in need of a new consultant. So, there was Dutch and his associate, ready and very willing to help.

“Now all we gotta do is get him to invest in your mining company,” Dutch said, happy with himself and Hosea’s little act they put on.

“As long as he doesn’t travel south anytime soon.” Hosea was a little quiet. Had been for the past few days. He knew about the little girl, the one whose flower sat in Hosea’s lapel, Hosea had told him everything. And as sad as the girl’s plight had sounded, Dutch knew that she was one among hundreds, and that he’d probably never meet the little girl who wanted to learn how to fight.

But then fate had come along and dropped her right in front of them. Dutch’s hand was at his hip, ready to pull his revolver out. Hosea was the same but then he smiled and laughed a little at the sight before them. The little girl had jumped over the wooden fence between the two shops beside them and landed in an awkward tangle of skirts and legs.

“Stupid thing,” she hissed and tugged the fabric away from her legs so she could stand. Only when her unruly mop of brown hair was shoved away from her face did Ava finally see them. There was dirt on her face and a red, angry bruise on her cheek as well as a cut on her lip. But the smile she flashed Hosea cancelled all of that out.

“Miss Ava,” Hosea said with a newfound brightness. “What’re you doing leaping over fences?”

“Running,” she answered matter-of-factly. The look she cast Dutch was more curious than cautious, but he didn’t believe for a second that the little girl wasn’t on guard.

“Ah, allow me to introduce my friend, Dutch. He might look scary, but he’s got a heart of gold.” Normally, Dutch would be annoyed at such an introduction, but when the little girl smiled at him, all teeth and cheek, he can’t bring himself to feel as such.

“I’m Ava,” she announced confidently, reaching out her hand like a gentleman. Dutch chuckled a little and obliged her.

“A pleasure to meet you, sweetheart.” He took her hand and brushed a quick kiss over her scraped knuckles that were already bruising. She smiled to hide the wince.

“How’d you get so scruffy looking, huh?” Hosea asked. It was then that they heard yelling and rushed footsteps approaching. Dutch turned around to find a small group of boys, four or five, rush around the corner of the gun store. Ava tensed at Dutch’s side with an angry scowl on her face. She looked about ready to fight before he stepped in.

“Now what’s the meaning of this?”

“Whatever that girl said, sirs, is a lie.!” One of them piped up. All of them were rough-looking and red in the face, huffing from exertion.

“Really?” He asked and looked down amusedly at Ava. “All she told us was her name.”

“Sir,” another boy said, stepping forward. He struggled to hide both the anger and fear on his face. It was then that Dutch noticed the bruise on his cheek and swollen eye. “That’s my sister you’ve got there.”

“You’re her brother?” It was surprising how even Hosea, for all his tricks and charm, couldn’t keep his own anger from his tone.

“I am, sir. And Pa said that she’s to come home with me.”

“Is that so?” Dutch replied, dropping his voice. There was something about the way this boy had glared at Ava, as if she were some disgusting insect, that pissed him off. “You wanna explain how she got this bruise on her? Or that cut?”

The boys hesitated, shuffling where they stood like a flock of birds. Hosea watched Dutch out of the corner of his eye while he reached back to put a reassuring hand on Ava’s shoulder.

“We don’t want no trouble,” the brother answered.

“I don’t remember offering some. Why don’t you run off with your friends and we’ll take care of your sister? Wouldn’t want her getting hurt more, would you?”

“She ain’t yours to worry about.”

“I ain’t worried, boy. But she might need her injuries looked at and me and my associate here are more than happy to make sure she gets seen to.”

“Ava, get here.” The boy snapped, realizing that Dutch wasn’t one to mess with. “Ma wants us home, remember?”

“I ain’t going with you,” she said with a sharp growl. “I’ll make it home by myself.”

“Listen to your brother,” another one of the boys hissed.

“Shut your Bo, I ain’t going.”

“You heard the little lady,” Dutch intervened. “Run along now. Don’t want no trouble like you said, right?”

Dutch made a show of his gun, tapping gently at the holster and it had the boys running. It took a moment for him to realize that he may have caused Ava more trouble; but the girl was smiling.

“Thank you,” she said as if threatening her brother was the kindest act imaginable.

“I hope our intervening don’t cause you problems at home.”

Ava shrugged, “Mr Thorpe don’t like us causing trouble. I just gotta stay out of Michael’s way till dinner.”

“And who’s this Mr Thorpe?”

“Michael and Louise’s father. Louise and I share our mother, Michael’s died a few years back.”

“That explains his blonde hair.” Hosea remarked, still with a hand on Ava’s shoulder.

“Well, if you’re needing to avoid him, why don’t we take you to a show? There’s one on soon at the theatre.” Dutch offered, proud of himself for making Ava jump from excitement.

“Really? Is that okay?”

“As long as you’re okay with it, little lady.”

“I ain’t a lady.”

“No, not with those roughened knuckles, you’re not.” Hosea chuckled and took hold of one of her hands. Dutch took the other.

That afternoon, Ava had sat quietly, enraptured by the show; from the magician to the singer, the sword juggler and the lion tamer. Dutch found himself more entertained by Ava’s reactions and his applause was both for the performers and her. When they walked her home, Hosea had continued to keep her entertained with his stories about Greek heroes. She especially like the one about the man who spent a decade fighting gods and nature to get home to his family.

“You were right, Hosea.” Dutch had announced once they dropped Ava off, bittersweet by her departure.

“I always am. But what’s it about this time?”

“Ha! How modest you are! I mean about Ava. She’s surely something.”

“I told you, Dutch.”

“That you did, Hosea. That you certainly did.”

  
~

  
The first time Bessie had met Ava, the girl was an orphan.

She had clung to Hosea’s hand as they approached the house, one they had taken over from a drunken farmer, quiet and grim faced. There were tear tracks along her ruddy cheeks and they collected at the tip on her trembling chin.

“Bessie,” Dutch called, tense and visibly angry. “Would you mind helping our young lady here into a bath, then perhaps some food.”  
“Of course,” she had answered, knowing that now wasn’t the time for questions. Bessie looked down to Ava who seemed unable to look away from the dirt. “Come with my, dearie, let’s get you clean and fed, hm?”

Ava didn’t move. She was shaking at Hosea’s side and more tears tumbled from her painfully red eyes. Bessie moved to take a step forward but then Dutch was there, crouched  
in front of Ava with a large hand on her little shoulder.

“You’re safe now, Ava, you hear me? We’ll be taking care of you from now on. Anything you need, you ask us or Miss Bessie here, alright? We can be your family now, if you’re okay with that.”

The little girl stared at Dutch for a moment, scared and unsure, before stepping forward. Bessie’s own heart tightened at the sight of little Ava leaning into Dutch for a hug. This dangerous, lying, thieving outlaw was comforting such a helpless little girl. There was a conflicting look on Hosea’s face too, like he knew that this was both something wonderful and terrible. But Dutch had made a decision and, as far as Bessie was concerned, Ava would be with them for the foreseeable future. Maybe even longer.

“Come along little miss, let’s see if we can get that dirt off you.” This time, Ava took Bessie’s offered hand and followed without complaint. Neither of them said anything about how quickly Hosea and Dutch had launched into a discussion, mentioning Ava several times while they remained within earshot. “We’ll get a tub heated up for you, probably the smaller one, seeing as you’re so little. And we’ll have to find you something to wear while we wash those clothes of yours.”

“Yes ma’am,” Ava said in a quiet voice.

“Ma’am? Now we’ll have none of that. You call me Bessie and do as you’re told, we’ll get along just fine. How does that sound?”

Once again, Bessie’s chest tightened, but there was nothing ill about it. Not when Ava smiled at her like Bessie had just given her whatever it was little girls dreamed of.

“Yes Bessie.” This time, Ava’s voice was more confident, sure. Her steps lightened a little, but her hand remained tightly wrapped around Bessie’s fingers.  
Bessie smiled back, “That’s my girl.”

  
~

  
The first time Arthur met Ava, he was a nervous wreck.

He’d been riding with Dutch and Hosea for just over a week. They’d met Arthur at the worst point of his life like a pair of unlikely heroes. Dutch’s speech had sounded way too good to be true, most of it too grand for Arthur to fully understand. But he believed it, every single word. And he knew that he’d follow Dutch anywhere, for as long as he could.

As they traveled back to the house they’d procured for a few months now, a big enough farmhouse away from the town, Dutch told Arthur all sorts of things. The main one that stuck in Arthur’s head was Dutch’s little girl, Ava.

The way this man had gushed about her, his smile never dropping as he did so, spoke volumes about how important she was. A little princess, protected by one of the most ruthless outlaws Arthur had ever met, and he was going to be her big brother. Not daunting at all.

Ava had been hiding beside Bessie’s skirts when Dutch finally introduced them; so caught up in the plans he had for Arthur already forming in his head. However, all Arthur’s nerves had seemed to flitter away when Ava stepped forward to shake his offered hand.

“I’m Ava,” she had said, shifting from shy to confident between on breath and the next.

“Arthur Morgan. I’m going to be your big brother, if that’s alright with you.”

Ava had looked at Dutch first, as if asking for permission, before nodding.

For years, long after their first meeting, Arthur could never understand what it was that changed him. As if there was something that clicked within him, something that finally made sense even if he could never figure it out. Arthur smiled at Ava like he had known her for all his life. Maybe they did, from another life before this one. Or maybe it was the mix of adorable and wild he saw within her. But most likely, it was because of how she smiled back at him as if she had felt just as he did.

_TBC_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and please let me know what you think!   
> If anyone noticed any errors, please let me know. This is all unedited aside from what I've done. And I probably missed some things!   
> Take care guys, 
> 
> see you in the next one :)


	2. things to hide and horses to ride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> getting to know the dynamic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so pleased and thankful for the love this has gotten, it means so much!  
> I forgot to mention that the title of this story is after the song by Have Mercy. It's a wonderful song and I personally love it.  
> I've got to warn you that the tense does change in this chapter but it will be in two separate parts so it won't be too confusing. And there is also a tiny hint/mention of self-mutilation, and just in case, I've signified the sentence with *'s as a warning.  
> Other than that, just some good ol' sweetness 
> 
> Enjoy :) 
> 
> Characters aren't mine, the mistakes are.

A few years had passed, and Ava was eleven years old. Still the youngest of the gang by seven years with Arthur being second youngest at eighteen. They were Dutch and Hosea’s kids and everyone in the gang knew it. Even though Dutch doted on Ava and called her his princess, Ava knew that Arthur was the favourite. Not that she really minded. But it was strange how much Dutch had suddenly put on Arthur and the latter had taken it all on as if his life depended on it. Arthur never complained, never questioned, and it began to worry Ava.

   He was her big brother, strong, kind, dependable. Of course she would worry; especially when she saw how his shoulders would drop once Dutch turned away, how he barely got any sleep at night but would drag himself out of bed early each morning.  
   Ava had asked him a few times if he was alright, and each time Arthur would smile and say he was fine. She couldn’t work out why he lied to her. But she knew not to bring it up to Dutch, not when Arthur was so faithful to him.

   “It’s about loyalty,” Hosea had said once, while he’d been teaching her how to read. Ava was a quick study, eager too, and after a year with her, Hosea knew she’d grow to be a brainy little devil. “Arthur’s mighty loyal to Dutch, so that means he doesn’t want to disappoint him. Even if that means working hard and doing things he might not be entirely sure of.”

   “But shouldn’t he tell Dutch? I’m sure he’d understand if Arthur needed a break.”

   “Maybe, Ava, that could happen. But Arthur’s got his pride, you see. He doesn’t want to look weak, or Dutch might not depend on him as much anymore.”

   “That all sounds stupid.”

   “Maybe so,” Hosea said with a bark of a laugh. “But that’s just the way it is, my girl.”

   That didn’t sit well with her.

   After that, Ava did all she could to lessen Arthur’s stress. She’d help Ms Grimshaw with as much of the cooking and cleaning as she could, she’d read along with Arthur without interrupting to ask questions while Hosea taught them, she even brought him dinner when he looked fit to fall over.

   It didn’t take much for Arthur to notice, not when their gang was so small. When he told her that she didn’t need to worry about him so much, Ava had hit his arm. It didn’t hurt but she put so much effort in it that he was taken aback.

   “I’ll stop worrying when you quit giving me reason to,” she’d snapped with all the authority an eleven-year-old could muster. He’d wanted to laugh but the genuineness of it all warmed Arthur’s heart.

   “Alright kiddo, I’ll try.” 

   Neither of them noticed, too caught up in the story Arthur had for her about his recent job, that Dutch had watched them; melting a bit at how determined his little princess was. She was a firecracker, quick witted and even faster with a punch, but with a heart as gentle as Hosea’s. He knew he’d been laying it on tough for Arthur, expected no less from his boy. Dutch had always saved the coddling and care for Hosea while he pushed Arthur to be a better man. Now, at least, Arthur would have Ava to help with the caring; something she did very well. Even for him.

~

   Arthur has just gotten out of his dirty clothes, after being away for a week, and into new ones when Ms Grimshaw storms up to him with a furious scowl.

   “Mr Morgan,” she says, a little out of breath. “Have you seen Ava?”

   “Can’t say I have. Maybe ask Dutch.”

   “I did, and he told me he’d rather stay out of it.”

   “What she done?”

   “Never you mind. If you see her, drag her scrawny little behind to me.”

   “Yes ma’am,” Arthur agrees as seriously as he can, lest he be on the receiving end of Susan’s wrath. Even though she’s Dutch’s lady, Susan’s no-nonsense approach to life garnered her respect from everyone. Which meant that most people didn’t trifle with her. Except, apparently, for Ava.

   After Susan storms off, Arthur scans the camp for any sign of their resident she-devil. In the months he’d come to know her, Ava proved different from the sweet little thing he’d first met; not that he didn’t still find her sweet. It doesn’t startle him when a small hand gently grabs hold of his a few moments later, even though it should.

   “She’s mighty mad at you, Ava.” He says with a fond smile. Ava looks so innocent beside him, dressed in a pretty, blue dress and her hair tied up with a white ribbon. But the dirt stains on her dress, the scrapes on her knuckles and the cut on her lip say otherwise. “What’d you do?”

   “Nothing.”

   “Mhm.”

   “It wasn’t my fault.”

   “Never is.”

   “They started it!”

   “Who did?”

   Ava pauses for a second before mumbling, “Some boys in town.”

   Arthur can’t help the anger that suddenly climbs up his back. His own hand tightens around Ava’s as he crouches in front of her. There is anger on his face, he can’t help it, but Ava doesn’t look scared of him. Never has, never could. Arthur then asks, with a voice like gravel, “What did those boys do?”

   “They said they wanted to play ‘cause I looked like a little doll. But I told them to get lost and then one of them grabbed me.”

   “Where?” Ava bites her lip, always a stubborn one. “Ava, where did he grab you?”

   “Just my arm.”

   “Show me.”

   She does, and there’s a nasty red handprint on her skin that makes him hiss. “It ain’t that bad.”

   “What happened after?”

   “I hit him.” She says it proudly, even if she’s reluctant to tell. Arthur knows that she doesn’t want to worry him, that she hates when he fights her battles for her. But he can’t help it. Not when it’s his little girl getting hurt. “Then I hit his other friends. But then one of them called over their big brother which weren’t fair. So I ran.”

   “You tell Dutch or Hosea?”

   “No! They’d fuss and bother me and not let me out of camp!”

   “Maybe it’s safer if you told-” Arthur’s barely gets the words out before Ava rips her hand away and bolts. “Dammit kid! Get back here!” But she’s gone, quick as a whip, out of sight. Arthur sighs and pulls out a cigarette. He knows she won’t come back even if he begged. Once Ava was gone, not many could catch her. Or find her.

   For a second, he debates whether or not to tell either of their fathers. They could probably do a better job at helping her than he could. But she was right. They’d never let her out of camp if they knew she was getting caught up in scraps. Ava was a fighter; he knew that the first time he’d called her a little girl. She’d shoved him off his chair and held him down till he took it back.

   With not much he can do, Arthur heads over to Hosea, hoping for a lesson that can distract him until he can find her.

 

   Arthur doesn’t find Ava until the following morning. He’d heard the shouting the night before. Ava had returned long after sundown which had sent Dutch into a panic. Already settled down to sleep, Arthur had laid there and listened to Dutch and Susan’s yelling, threats and sounds of frustration. Not one word came from Ava. It was something he was proud of her for: she always took her punishments without complaint. Then Hosea had led her off to bed with another, quieter, lecture.

   He finds her sitting underneath a tree. There’s a large book on Ava’s crossed legs and her body is bent over it while she reads. Even dressed up like a boy, Arthur can’t help but grin at how pretty she looks.

 *****    But then he notices the back of her hands, the numerous moon shaped scars from her nails. *****

   That scolding from the night before must’ve made her more upset than Arthur thought.

   “Morning, Trouble.” He calls as kindly as he can. It’s not an easy angle to discern Ava’s mood from. However, when she looks up at him, Ava smiles like there’s nothing wrong in the world.

   “Morning.”

   “You doing alright?”

   “Mhm.”

   “You sure? It sounded pretty rough last night, what with both Susan and Dutch having a go at you.”

   Ava shrugs. “Weren’t that bad.

   “No? What was their verdict, huh?”

   “I can’t go in town for two weeks and I’m only allowed outside of camp with an adult.” Ava says with a sigh that’s more suited to a grown man than an eleven-year-old girl.

   “Better than that time you was grounded for a month after taking that man’s gun.”

   “You got grounded too!”

   “Yes, but only because you can’t handle a goddamn rifle.”

   “And you were only grounded for a week until Dutch needed you to ride with him.”

   “Well he needed an extra rider, so I had to.”

   “I could’ve gone if I were good at riding.”

   “You ain’t?”

   Ava shakes her head with what can only be described as a sour pout. “Been too busy. I always end up riding with Dutch or Hosea. Never had my own horse neither.”

   “Want me to teach you?

   The offer comes easily, without thought, and Arthur will always be glad it did so. Ava looks up at him like he’s just offered her the whole world. Or something really, very nice. Arthur feels stupid for thinking he could ever give her something so remarkable.

   “You mean it?” Ava’s already on her feet, her book discarded and forgotten on the grass.

   “Sure. I’m an adult and it ain’t like we’re going robbing or nothing.”

   “Can we go robbing too?”

   “Of course not!” Arthur says with a laugh, pulling Ava to his side as they make their way to his horse. “If anyone’s taking you robbing, it’s Dutch. And that won’t be for a long while yet.”

   “We’ll see.”

   “That we will, now let’s get you up.” Arthur’s horse, Gwen, is too big for Ava to climb up by herself. So, she waits patiently on the ground while Arthur mounts up and lowers a hand to her. In one smooth motion, Arthur lifts Ava from the ground and up into the saddle in front of him. Ava pats Gwen’s neck while Arthur gets his reins under control.

   “You gonna tell Dutch or Hosea before we leave?”

  “Hosea knows,” Arthur answers with a nod towards where Hosea watches them over the rim of his coffee cup. “And we’d best get out of here before Grimshaw sees.”

   “Go! Go, go, go!” Ava giggles, hitting his leg as if to spur Arthur on. He laughs, can’t help it, and kicks Gwen’s side. They’re off quickly before anyone can stop them. Ava smiles the whole way to the field Arthur takes them to.

   It’s not until he’s dismounted, with Ava taking the reins in her shaky hands, that Arthur realizes that he had been smiling the entire time too. 

 

 _TBC_  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's chapter 2!  
> I'll admit now that both my update schedule and chapter length won't stay consistent :/ I will try but somethings this story may go where I don't intend or IRL might happen so we shall just have to wait and see.  
> I really hope you enjoyed this chapter, writing this story just makes me so happy. Next chapter will be introducing John and there will be a bit more about Ava's life before the gang. Exciting?  
> If you guys have any thoughts or feelings, please feel free to let me know! It just warms my socks!!!
> 
> see you in the next one :)


	3. enter, John Marston

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Then along came John.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy! 
> 
> This chapter is super long, it kind of just got away from me, but I hope you still enjoy it. This one's got a whole lot of John-Ava-sibling-bonding goodness with a splash of jealous-Arthur just to spice it up.   
> I have barely edited it so I do apologize in advance!! 
> 
> Enjoy :) 
> 
> Characters aren't mine, the mistakes are!

A few years later, John arrives. The first thing Ava notices about the boy is that he’s her size and dirtier than she had been when Dutch and Hosea had adopted her. 

   Ms Grimshaw and Hosea look a little sceptical, but Dutch is brimming with joy. It doesn’t take much for Dutch to convince them. Hosea pats the boy on the head with a warm welcome and Ms Grimshaw sets about getting him a bath ready.

   Ava watches from her tent, already forgetting the book in her hands. It’s easy to see how nervous the boy is. His grubby hands can’t keep still and his eyes dart around to every face and corner in camp. For a brief second, he sees Ava and freezes. Ava offers up her kindest smile before he looks away again.

   “There’s my girl,” Dutch calls with a large grin. He wants something, it’s obvious, but Ava can’t bring herself to be annoyed. Not when he opens his arms for a hug. Part of her thinks, as she jumps up to hug him, that no matter how old she gets, she will always be happy to see Dutch happy.

   “You’re glad about something.”

   “And why shouldn’t I be? I have my health, my family and the best daughter any man could ask for.”

   “Alright old man, enough buttering up, you’ll make us both sick.” The mood sobers quickly as Ava asks, “who’s the kid?”

   Dutch’s smile drops and she knows he means business. “That boy is John Marston. Found him at the wrong end of a noose.”

   “Are you serious? He’s just a kid!”

   “My thoughts exactly. I managed to talk the gentlemen who had him into handing the boy over to me.”

   “Another lost soul to add to the collection?”

   “To the family, Ava. He’s one more unfortunate our family will keep safe. Just like it’s kept you and Arthur, Bill and the others all safe.”

   “I know, Dutch. You’re the one who taught me what family is, remember?”

   “Yes, I do, sweetheart. Now there’s something else.” Dutch hesitates like he’s ashamed or guilty to ask; if Dutch could ever feel guilty. “Ava, I need you to do something for me,” Dutch says with a hand on Ava’s shoulder. It’s nerve-wracking and exciting, that Dutch needs her help. “Now it’s mighty important and you’re the only one I can trust to do this.”

   “Course I can. Whatever you need, Dutch.”

   “I need you to take care of John for me. He’s had it rough, like you when you first came to us. No one else here has a better understanding of what that boy is going through than you. Now, I know it’s a lot, but I need you to do this. Can I count on you?”

   Ava doesn’t hesitate. “Yes Sir.”

   “You sure? He’s family now, a brother, but he needs lots of love and care to see that.”

   “Don’t you worry, Dutch. I can take care of him. He’s my brother now.”

   “That’s my girl.” Dutch’s smile is warm, proud and everything Ava strives to earn. “Then I leave him in your capable hands, sweetheart.”

 

~

 

  
   It’s later in the evening and Ava has yet to talk to John. The boy has been with Dutch and Hosea for the afternoon as they get him situated. Arthur had stopped by Ava’s tent earlier to share his thoughts on their new family member. While Arthur had been hesitant, Ava had been excited. Her own younger brother to take care of. At first, Arthur had thought it was strange that she’d been so eager to have a younger sibling. But then he remembered the stories she told him about her sister, Louise, and that had been it.

   Pearson, the new cook from the Navy, has just finished up the stew; a mix of meats and mystery. Ava lets most of the adults in first, seeing as though they’ve all been working so hard. She grabs two bowls and hurries off before someone snaps at her. One of them is for the boy sitting by himself at the edge of camp, a small knife and a piece of wood in his scratched up hands.

   “Got you something to eat,” Ava announces and smiles at the way he jumps like a small cat. But he takes the bowl with thanks and doesn’t flinch when she sits down next to him, so that’s a win in Ava’s book.

   “So, you’re John Marston.” She says it as both a fact and question.

   John nods. “And you’re Ava Munroe.”

   “Yep, that’s me. How old are you?” She asks, taking in his small, wiry frame. He’s way too skinny to be any kind of threat.

   “Twelve.”

   “You sure? Seem pretty small for your age.”

   “Well how old are you?”

   “Fifteen.”

   “Maybe you’re just big for your age.”

   There’s no malice to it. Just cheek, nerve and a whole lot of boyish foolishness. This, Ava thinks with a smack of resentment, is what having a brother is supposed to be like.

   “I’m bigger than you, so watch yourself.”

   “I’ll be the one saying that to you soon enough.”

   It’s not quite a laugh that escapes her, but it brightens Ava’s mood, nonetheless. John’s too.

 

~

 

   After that, Ava and John are practically inseparable. She’s right by his side while Hosea teaches the boy to read. It’s more about the learning than the stories for John, but Ava sits with him and enjoys the plots and characters for him. When Dutch takes him out shooting, Ava’s there too. Growing up training with Arthur was heaps of fun, the friendly competition urged them to work harder. That’s what she wants for John. If only Arthur was as keen to help the boy as she is, but he always seems to be ‘busy’ or ‘tired’ whenever she asks him to come with them.

   When John calls Ava his sister, she’s ecstatic. Hosea’s smile is almost as wide as her own when he hears about it. They’re close, thick as thieves, Dutch jokes, and it motivates Ava to be the best sister she can be.

   At camp one night, John is quiet. It’s been about two months since he came along and it’s the first time in several weeks since he’s gone quiet. Ava’s by his side, perched a respectful distance from him on a massive log. Arthur and Dutch had taken John out that morning and they only arrived an hour ago. Neither Dutch nor Arthur seemed bothered about anything. But something was bothering John.

   “You alright there?” Ava asks, friendly and casual lest he snap and run. He’s done it before; but not to her. “You look as sour as a wet cat.”

   “It’s nothing.”

   “You sure? Because if it is something, you can talk to me about it. I won’t tell.”

   “Not even Dutch and Hosea?”

   “If it were their business, you’d tell them, right?”

   “I guess so.” He quiet for a minute. But then he looks at Ava and sees nothing but kindness and support on her face. “We got into a fight just outside of town. Arthur and Dutch took them all down but I managed to shoot one of them in the leg.”

   “So you didn’t kill him?”

   “No… but Dutch did. When the fella went for his gun.”

   It still doesn’t explain what’s upset him, so Ava asks, “you don’t wanna kill folks, then?”

   “That’s not it.” John’s voice is quiet, close to a whisper, and Ava leans in to hear him say, “I killed somebody. Before I joined.”

   “You did?”

   He nods, angry and ashamed. “It weren’t my fault. He attacked me.”

   “That why they was going to hang you?”

   “No. I got caught stealing.”

   “Stealing? They’d hang a kid for that?”

   “The fellas who caught me wanted to. But then Dutch stepped in and saved me.”

   “That’s old Dutch for you,” Ava says. She looks over at the man in question with a fond smile. He’s busy talking to Hosea, Susan and Arthur. The latter notices her staring and tilts his head, as if asking _is everything alright?_ Ava nods at Arthur, happy for his concern; unnecessary as it is. It’s become a thing, Arthur’s concern, and it happens way more often than it used to.

   “I just don’t know what he wants from me.”

   “I reckon he just wants to keep you safe. Teach you all you need to know, that’s what he did for Arthur and me.”

   “Really? Did you kill someone?”

   “Nope,” Ava admits before her own anger rushes forth, it coils tightly in her gut and rages in the empty hole in her heart that won’t close. It probably never will. “But I’m gonna. When I’m old enough to.”

   “Who you gonna kill?” John asks, unperturbed by her admission.

   It’s surprising. John accepts it like a fact, neither upset nor concerned. It’s a secret she’s kept to herself for years. The others wouldn’t understand, Ava knows without a doubt, and they’d try to stop her. But John seems to understand.

   “The man who killed my family.”

   “You had a family? You ain’t Dutch’s?”

   “Nope. Had me a mother, my father died before I was born. Then she married Mr Thorpe who had his own nasty son. But they had a baby together and I got myself a darling little sister. Sweet, little Louise.”

   “What happened?” Now they’re whispering, leaning in close and very aware of the others around camp. This secret of hers is now theirs, and Ava feels better about it with John’s easy acceptance.

   “Mr Thorpe got in the bad books of this feller, Gregor Brolton, both of them business men. Mr Thorpe’s company got in the way of Brolton’s. What we didn’t realize was that Brolton was in with this local gang of bastards, really terrible men.” She pauses for a minute, biting back the ache in her chest and the tears in her eyes. John carefully takes her hand and nods, understanding even without an explanation. Ava continues, stronger from John’s support. “I was out late in town, just messing about with some of the locals, and I realized that I was late for dinner. So, I ran back home but… By the time I got there, the house was on fire and the men who done it were riding off. No one escaped from the house. By the time other people showed up to see what happened, Dutch and Hosea had already found me and taken me away. Said it was dangerous to stick around in case Brolton’s men heard about me.”

   “And you’ve been here ever since?”

   “Yep. This is my family now, you included.”

   Between one breath and the next, the mood lightens. Ava feels like she can breathe easier than she ever has. John smiles at her, taking his hand away from hers to pat her shoulder.

   “If you ever need help taking this bastard and his men down, you can count on me.”

   “Hah! Not with your aim, you fool. We gotta make a better gunslinger out of you yet.”

   They both laugh, easy and freeing, and the others around the camp stare at them for a moment. But to them, it’s just two kids joking about, especially when John shoves Ava along the log and she retaliates by pushing him backwards.

 

~

 

   Ava’s up before most of the camp a few days later. Some of the boys came back last night after successful job. The most successful one in a while. Arthur had been a part of it, had ridden back into camp proud as a peacock. But then Dutch had praised him on a job well done, and Ava saw Arthur’s expression change. Despite the man he’d become, there would always be some childish joy at Dutch’s approval. And Ava knows that feeling well.

   After feeding the horses and cleaning up after the small party they had, Mrs Grimshaw shoos her away.

   “Leave some work for the others, girlie.” The offer is rare, as Susan always seems to have more work somewhere, but she’s in a good mood so Ava doesn’t question it.

   There’s a small creek not far from camp, snaking through the trees and leaving patches of moss and flowers around it. Ava finds herself a comfy spot on a rock with her feet dangling in the cold water. A few fish stream past and a part of her wants to draw them. But she’s no artist, not like Arthur.

   He’d been so nervous when Ava had asked to see what he was sketching. Of course, she told him not to worry if it was personal. But, as Arthur has only done for Ava, he’d softened at her concern. He first showed her a sketch of Gwen, then of Hosea and Dutch at a table, then one of a dog rolling in the dirt. They were amazing; simple sketches that captured details and images so easily. When Ava had told him that, Arthur had blushed and mumbled out a thanks before tucking the journal away.

   Ever since then, Ava has wanted to be able to draw like that. But shapes and figures didn’t come to her so naturally; they looked disproportioned or just down-right ugly. So, she writes. Writes about what she sees, who she meets, whatever thoughts seem to stick with her. Hosea had given her a few poetry books when she’d asked him what the hell a sonnet was.

   With the water babbling past her, and the forest a quiet murmur, Ava tries to form her own poem. “Through the endless lands, you move with silver… ah… hands… bands… strands? Through endless lands, with silver strands, you ebb and flow so freely. With twists and bends that never end, you…”

   “That creek’s too small for a swim, you realize?”

   Ava turns, with a hand at her hip, and sees Arthur walking towards her. “You always manage to find me, huh Arthur?” Then it hits her and Arthur tenses as if there was a threat around. “You always manage to find me! That’s it!”

   “What are you on about?” There’s a fond grin that replaces Arthur’s concern as he sits down next to her.

   Ava smiles, “I was thinking up a poem and couldn’t think of the last line. But then you showed up and there it was.”

   “I did? Does that mean I get to hear it?”

   “It’s just a silly little thing,” Ava admits, suddenly nervous even with Arthur.

   “I’m sure it ain’t,” he replies as he bumps his shoulder against hers. “And if it is, I promise I won’t laugh.”

   “Alright then. Through endless lands, with silver strands, you ebb and flow so freely. With twists and bends that never end, you always manage to find me.”

   “That’s a cute little thing, kinda like you.”

   “Oh don’t you start with that. I’ve already got Johnny-boy teasing me about my height, even though he’s shorter.”

   “Johnny-boy, huh?”

   There’s a change in Arthur’s tone, quiet and distant. When she looks at him, Arthur’s brow is furrowed and there’s a small pout on his mouth. Ava tries her best not to smile.

   “That better not be jealousy I’m hearing, Arthur.”

   “I ain’t jealous of that scruffy, little kid.” But the way he chucks a handful of rocks and dirt into the river says otherwise.

   “You know if there’s something wrong, you can tell me. No judgement or laughing. You know that.”

   “I know,” Arthur sighs, softening at Ava’s easy kindness. “It’s just… Ever since John came along, it ain’t been just you and me. Not like it used to. I just miss being with you, I guess. I know that’s stupid-" 

   “It ain’t stupid, Arthur, if that’s how you feel. Why didn’t you say nothing?”

   “Because I felt like an idiot.”

   “So you decided to act like one? Is that why you’ve been so ‘busy’ lately?” Arthur nods, embarrassed and blushing. “Listen, you big fool, I do my best to take care of John because I remember how much it helped growing up with you beside me. I want him to feel cared for like you make me feel. But... if you feel like... we’re getting distant, all you gotta do is tell me. I can’t read your mind.”

   “I know, Ava. I know.”

   She takes Arthur’s large hand in her own and squeezes. “I care about you a whole lot. If you’re upset, let me take care of you.”

   “As long as you let me take care of you.”

   They smile at each other for a moment, lost in their own little world, and something in Ava’s chest twists. It’s both pleasant and painful. In that moment, Ava realizes one important truth: that she’ll never be happier than when she can make Arthur happy.

 

_TBC_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what did you think? I hope you enjoyed my take on a young John Marston. I'm excited to explore his and Ava's friendship more as the story goes on.   
> Next chapter is going to be more fluff with Ava and Arthur. I know there's a 7 year age gap between them but I just want you to know that I plan to handle that with the utmost care.   
> That being said, if you have any questions or queries, feel free to come chat to me on my tumblr: keeping-10-people-happy.tumblr.com  
> You can ask me questions or hit me up for writing requests, whatever you fancy. 
> 
> Alrighty, thank you so much for checking this out!
> 
> see you in the next one :)


	4. marital troubles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes things take an odd but sweet turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...   
> Ah, so, it has been a while. Several weeks I think.   
> Gonna be honest, I had to write an essay for Uni and a couple other smaller assignments, and they sucked out all of the joy of writing. I literally didn't want to write anything.   
> So, if this chapter feels kind of weird or slightly off, that's probably why. I've done my best to finish it. Gonna be honest, not my proudest work, but I'm hoping that once all of these assignments are in, I'll be able to come back to this chapter as well as still writing more. Because I have a whole goddamn plan for this and I'll finish it, even if it kills me! 
> 
> Sorry for the rant, I hope this chapter is alright. 
> 
> Characters aren't mine, but the mistakes are. 
> 
> Enjoy :)

Arthur’s day starts off in the oddest way. He’s just come back from a pick-up with Ava and Bill, those two bickering at each other at every opportunity. Any comment made Ava bristle and snap, like she was annoyed with the whole world. Arthur included.

   He tries not to take it personally when she hurries off as soon as they dismount back at camp. She storms off into the trees without a word to anyone. Arthur grabs a cup of coffee to hopefully drown out his hurt. He doesn’t know how to process it right; all Arthur knows is that he feels bad that Ava feels bad even though he has nothing to do with it. But he’s not making her feel better, so it’s got to be partly his fault, right?

   His internal dilemma is interrupted by a conversation he accidentally stumbles upon. It’s Dutch’s voice that’s loudest; always is. But then there’s Susan’s voice. Arthur almost walks away but then there’s Hosea’s voice, calm against Dutch and Susan’s irritation.

   “It’s really not that big of an issue, Susan. We’ve got more important things to worry about.”

   “It might not be an issue for you gentlemen, but Ava’s future as a lady is at stake.”

   “She’s fine as long as she’s got her family,” Dutch argues, exasperated.

   “It’s high-time that girl started behaving like a proper lady. Otherwise she ain’t ever gonna find a husband.”

   “She’s sixteen, for Christ’s sake! She ain’t getting married anytime soon.”

   “I know that. I’m not stupid, Dutch. But she’s growing up fast and we gotta teach her how to behave properly or no man will want her.”

   “She’s right, Dutch.” Hosea pipes up, almost making Arthur spit out his coffee. “Even you have to admit that folks don’t take too kindly to an outspoken young lady like Ava. Most men don’t, certainly.”

   “Unless they’re some yellow-bellied fool and Ava was sick in the head.”

   “I appreciate your concern, both of you.” Dutch snaps, annoyed but not wishing for a fight. Arthur quietly admits to himself that he’s getting annoyed too. Not that he understands why. “But there ain’t no one good enough for my girl. No one.”

   “What about John?” Miss Grimshaw suggests with a huff.

   Dutch barks a laugh. “John? She’d eat that boy alive. Besides, they’re brother and sister, blood or no blood.”

   “Bill, then.”

   “No way, Ava’s way too smart for him.”

   “Mac?”

   “As if he’d want a proper lady.”

   “What about Arthur?” Hosea says. The question has Arthur dropping his coffee cup on the grass by his feet. His heart starts picking up pace as Hosea continues. “Out of all of them, Arthur understands our girl the best. He’s always been good to her and she’s always been good for him.”

   “Arthur, huh?” Dutch hums, as if he’s really contemplating this idea.

   Arthur’s chest begins to tighten as he thinks it over. Marry Ava? His Ava? The Ava who would rob a man as easily as smiling at him and then beat up a different fella for looking at her wrong? That Ava?

   But, then again, she’s not that same kid anymore. Ava doesn’t rely on Arthur’s teachings anymore, but rather his comfort and companionship. Their rides aren’t for practice but for enjoyment, same with their shooting. It’s almost laughable how much Ava has changed without Arthur really noticing it. But it’s difficult, separating the two; his little girl Ava, and the young lady she has become.

   Arthur never hears the end of that conversation. His feet are moving long before his mind catches up. He has to find Ava, to figure out which one she is; the girl who he helped raise, or the young woman who he can’t imagine a future without? Could he marry her? Would she want him?

   Thoughts become unintelligible as panic and confusion take over. Arthur has to find her, to figure this out before his head explodes.

   Before his thundering heart beats its way out of his chest.

 

~

 

It's difficult for Ava to swallow her anger. Bill had been his usual unpleasant self for most of the trip which she could usually manage. But it was the idea of coming back to camp and Miss Grimshaw gnawing her ear off about learning how to be a lady that had just soured any ounce of joy in her.

   And Arthur had looked so hurt when she’d brushed his concern off; a little too harshly. But this is Ava’s problem, not his. He’s always helped her, always been by her side. It’s the idea that he might not side with her on this that really scares her. Like Miss Grimshaw kept saying - it was in Ava’s best interests and it would be good for her to get a well-to-do husband, to live a safe, comfortable life like most ladies want.

   But that ain’t Ava.

   How is dressing up all fancy and going out for tea better for her than going out hunting for food and herbs for the people she cares about? How is it better to be a rich man’s wife, bearing a brood of children, when she can help take care of the horses and gear for the gang? How is marrying a man she doesn’t care about better than being with the people she loves more than anything?

   No one saw her swipe the bottle of whiskey from camp. It’s not like she drinks often, but some of the older fellas drink their troubles away and Ava reckons that it could work for her.

   “You better not be drinking that!”

   Ava sighs, knowing without seeing who it is. “Of course not, I just like holding bottles for the hell of it.”

   Arthur drops down beside her, along the riverbank, and snatches the bottle from her. She elbows him in the ribs when he takes quick sip before putting it down beside him. The smiles that follow are easy, automatic. The stress and aggravation cease to matter, just calm, peaceful company.

   It’s obvious that Arthur wants to talk, but he’s not sure how to start. First off, his mouth opens and closes several times, but no words make it through, the second is his hands, fretting and twitching where they rest on his thighs, the third is his eyes that flicker from the river to Ava and back again and again and again.

   “If you’ve got something to say, Arthur, best you say it.”

   There’s a huff, then, “what’s your problem?”

   If it were anyone else, even Dutch and Hosea, Ava would’ve gotten mad very quickly. But this is Arthur, and somehow his words get mixed up somewhere between his head and his mouth. What he had thought to say probably sounded a lot better than what came out; something kinder. Ava’s read a few pages of his journal; she knows the kinds of words Arthur is capable of.

   “It’s just Miss Grimshaw poking her nose where it’s not wanted.”

   “I ah-” Arthur’s comes up to rub the back of his neck as he tries to look anywhere else but at Ava. “I overheard her talking with Dutch and Hosea. About preparing you for marriage.”

   “Dammit. It’s none of their business either.”

   “They just want what’s best for you, girl. You know that.” Ava’s about to get angry, defensive, at the fact that Arthur’s siding with them. But he doesn’t. “I just don’t see how marrying you off will help. You can be a lady when you want, and if you marry someone else, you’d have to leave us.”

   “Exactly!” It bubbles up quickly, this joy, and her smile grows unhindered. Arthur smiles too, but gentle; like he knows something she doesn’t. “What’s that smile for, huh?”

   “Nothing,” he drawls. Then he looks away, cheeks reddening and smile fading. It’s then that she feels like she’s missed something. Something very important.

   “What is it?”

   “I was just thinking… Well, what if you married someone from the gang?”

   “That gang? Like Mac or Bill? Are you serious?”

   “Ah, no… not those fools. I mean. What if… what if it were me?”

   A pause.

   “What?” It’s like every possible thought has been shoved out of Ava’s head. Nothing replaces it, just her mind working hard to begin processing this.

   “It’s stupid,” Arthur grumbles, visibly uncomfortable. “Forget I said anything.”

   He makes to stand, probably to run and hide himself away for a good while. But Ava’s hands are on his arm, pulling him back to her.

   “What do you mean by that?” She asks. It’s desperate and terrified. Seeing her like this calms Arthur somewhat; his need to comfort her overtakes his anxiety.

   “I mean, if they’re so dead set on you getting married, I’ll marry you. That means you get to stay with the gang and… well, we get along really well together. We make each other happy, don’t we?”

   “Well… yeah. I guess we do.”

   “So, what do you think? Wanna marry me? W-when we’re older, obviously.”

   “Yeah.” Her answer comes easy, like its just common sense to accept. There’s no argument or hesitation. “I’ll marry you.”

   Arthur huffs a laugh with a grin that’s far more boyish than she’s seen him. Ava smiles too, feeling lighter for having her worries taken away. She’s too young yet, too naïve, to grasp the magnitude of what they’ve so casually spoken about. All she feels is happy, and when Arthur asks to kiss her, she accepts just as readily.

   It’s her first kiss.

   Even as Arthur leans closer, slow and nervous, Ava feels good; excited. She’d always thought that she would be some level of drunk when her first kiss happened. Or it forced upon her. She never imagined, didn’t dare to, that it’d be as gentle and comfortable as this. Arthur’s lips are firm against her own. They’re a little chapped and his stubble is scratchy, but there’s enough softness to his mouth that Ava melts a little.

   Even when it’s over, Arthur stays close. He keeps his forehead against hers and Ava doesn’t let go of his arm. It’s not romantic love, not yet, but there is love between them and a great deal of care.

   “What that look for?” There’s a devious little grin on Ava’s face that suddenly has Arthur concerned.

   “I call not being the one to tell Susan or Dutch.”

   “… Goddammit.”

 

 

_TBC_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think? 
> 
> I just wanted to say that, I am well aware of Ava and Arthur's age difference. In this chapter, Ava's 16 and Arthur is 23(?). So yeah, not the most PC thing, that's why I kept the kiss very brief and light-hearted. 
> 
> Despite that, I hope you guys enjoyed this and I'll do my best to get the next chapter up. It's gonna involve Ava, Arthur and John getting up to some outlaw hijinks. 
> 
> See you in the next one :)


	5. how are we to know our limits and abilities?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ava and John go thieving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back... back again...  
> I have no excuse so let's jump right into it! 
> 
> Characters aren't mine, the mistakes are. 
> 
> Enjoy :)

 

 

“I still can’t believe it,” John huffs, chucking another rock across the river.

   “God, John. If I knew you were going to whine this much, I wouldn’t have told you.”

   “But you… and Arthur? Getting married?”

   Ava sighs loudly, bored and annoyed. John’s initial reaction had been somewhat entertaining, the way his eyes had bugged out and his mouth hung open like a fish. He’d yelled a few curses before Ava dragged him away from the camp; some of the others had started looking. But now he’s whining and grumbling, has been for at least an hour, and Ava’s about ready to push him into the water; his piss-poor excuse of swimming be damned.

   “It’s not like we’re getting married today, idiot. It’ll happen later, when we’re older. And it’s to get Miss Grimshaw off my damn back.”

   “But _you_ and _Arthur_? Hey!”

   Ava throws a handful of gravel at John, hitting him across his back. “I’m heading into town, see if I can find anything more interesting than your whining.”

   “…what if I had something interesting… maybe?”

   “What’re you talking about?”

   “I’m talking about a job with a bunch of money at the end of it.”

   “What money?”

   “Moonshine money.”

   Ava listens as John stumbles over his explanation. There’s a bunch of fools making money off of moonshine under the lawmen’s noses. Lots of money.

   “I can show you where they said it was all stored.”

   “What, right now?”

   “Sure. It’s gonna be in there till day after tomorrow.”

   “Alright, we’d best head out now, before Hosea thinks to give us another lesson.”

   It’s almost comical how suddenly John moves. He grabs hold of Ava’s arm and, before she can even get another breath in, he drags her to camp, narrowly avoiding either of them falling over. Ava can’t help but laugh at his childish excitement.

   John takes her to an establishment in town, opposite the general store. They hang about outside for a bit before something strange happens. A man walks past them and Ava spots a few wads of cash in his pockets; a habit she picked up from Hosea. From the way he keeps his hands near his pockets, it must be a nice amount. Ava and John watch as he goes into the barber next to the store. Then he out of there after a minute, hair and beard unchanged, and his pockets noticeably empty.

   “That’s gotta be place,” John whispers, not used to sneaking about or being subtle.

   “You go check around the back, see if there’s a way in.”

   “What about you?”

   “I’ll go see if I can find out where they’ve got the stash.”

   Before John can argue, she’s gone. Ava tries her best at casual as she crosses the street, putting a bit of swagger in her step. When a fella greets her with an obvious look at her body, Ava smiles with a giggle. Just a young girl out in town, a little naïve to be on her own. Not someone to worry about.

   The doorbell rings when she opens the door. Ava notices how the barber quickly turns to her, startled and almost flustered.

   “H-hello there, miss. How can I help you?”

   “Hi there,” Ava replies, changing her voice a little like Hosea had taught her. “I was wondering about your services, see I’m in need-.” Ava falters a little when she looks outside and sees John stumbling about in the fenced off yard behind the store. “I’m in need of a particular style. Something with lots of curls and ribbons. Do you do that sort of thing?”

   “Of course, miss. But it is costly.”

   “Oh, that’s fine. Is there a book or catalogue that I can look at? To get a better sense of what I mean.”

   “Ah…” It’s in that pause that Ava catches him glancing behind the counter. Ava smiles, making herself as innocent as possible. “Of course, if you’d wait here for me, miss.”

   “Certainly, I’ll just take a gander at these flyers over here.” Ava moves towards the barber-chairs, feigning interest in the sheets of paper on the table between them.

   As soon as the man is halfway upstairs, Ava dashes to the counter and begins searching. There’s no safe in the cupboards and none of the drawers are locked. Only when she hears the barber returning does she notice one of the planks on the floor is lifted slightly. There’s no time to check and Ava’s back at her spot when the man returns.

   “If you’d like to take a look at this, miss.” He hands the catalogue over and Ava flicks through it half-heartedly.

   “I like this one,” Ava says, picking one at random. Before she can lie about a time, a rough-looking man storms in and halts at the sight of Ava.

   “Ah! Mr Harrison,” the barber yelps and snatches the catalogue back from Ava. “I was just- we were-”

   “Oh, I hope I’m not interrupting. I can come back if you’re busy,” Ava offers. It’s an easy way out without suspicion. Neither man really argue, and Ava gets out with no fuss. She finds John behind the general store, chucking rocks at the wall.

   “What took you?” He asks, annoyed and bored like a child. She cuffs the side of his head.

   “What, did you want me to race in and back out? Think that would’ve been unsuspicious?”

   “Did you find the money?”

   “Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s under the floorboards behind the counter. What’d you find?”

   “There’s a way to get inside, but we gotta climb over the roofs.”

   “That shouldn’t be a problem,” she says with a smile. Ava’s excitement overcomes her fear too quickly; she almost suggests going for the money now. But John looks a little wary and it’s enough to quell some of the excitement. “We got this, John. You and me will come back here tonight, deal?”

   John nods, shaking his unruly tangle of hair. There’s a smile on his face, a boyish sort of a grin, and it matches Ava’s so well.

 

 

~

 

 

    By some divine luck, no one else really notices Ava and John leaving. Davey makes an off-handed comment, but he gets distracted by something Bill does. The streets of town are winding down, folks sticking to the taverns or their own homes. All Ava and John get are a few curious, but uninvested, glances. They hang out behind the general store and make a game of throwing rocks at the wall; Ava throws a rock at one brick and John tries to hit it. No one pays them any mind and it almost feels too easy. But the gun at Ava’s hip, and the knife at her back, is enough to keep any illusions from distracting her. 

  Night can’t come fast enough. It feels like they’ve been playing the same stupid game for days and Ava almost calls it quits when John punches her arm. 

  “The hell was that for, Marston?” 

  “Over there,” he mumbles, nodding his head to the back of the barbers. The barber from yesterday is there, he looks both ways before leaving, like someone with a secret. A secret that two young fools know about and are ready to take. 

   “Wait a bit, then we’ll climb up.” Ava says, watching the two men until they are out of sight.

   “We’ve been waiting for ages already.”

   “So you’ll know how to wait a little more.”

   John stands there pouting, kicking at the dirt, but he does as he’s told. Despite it being John’s information, it’s Ava who’s in charge.

   “If things go bad in there,” she begins as stoically as she can manage, “run like hell and hide for a bit. Don’t go straight to camp.”

   “I know that.”

   “Yeah, but will you remember that in a panic?”

   “I won’t panic.”

   “It’s just a precaution.”

   “The hell is a ‘precaution’?”

   “Just do what I say, idiot.”

   “Yeah, the idiot who found this lead!”

    “And I’ll make you a shiny badge for it when we get back to camp. The “idiot who can actually do things” badge, sound good?”

   “Shut up.” Ava shoves his shoulder and the boy smiles. He smiles so easily, Ava realizes, and a worry settles in her chest. Before she moves for the fence behind the general store, she promises herself one thing. She promises that, no matter what happens to her, she’ll make sure John ends up alright; now and always.

   “Let’s go, John.”

   Ava grabs hold of the fence and suddenly feels better. It comes back so naturally that Ava feels like her kid-self again. She clambers up the fence and launches herself at the roof’s edge. She barely even notices when her feet smack the brick wall, too busy giggling to herself as she hauls her body up and onto the roof. It’s a little creaky, but Ava keeps her centre of gravity low and her weight as distributed as much as she can manage.

   John stands on the ground with his mouth hung open like a guppy.

   “C’mon Marston! We ain’t got all night!” She hisses, suddenly very aware of what they’re about to try. But then someone’s behind John and Ava can’t get her pistol out quick enough before there’s a hand over the boy’s mouth and an arm wrapped across his chest.

   “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” 

   John thrashes against the arms that hold him until Ava jumps down and hushes him.

   “Arthur?” Ava asks, making out the familiar face beneath his hat.

   “Yeah, you’re goddamn lucky it’s me. What the hell are you two doing?!” Arthur lets John go with a slight shove, lest he gets hit by John’s flailing.

   “What’re you doing here?!”

   “Shut it, John!” Ava whispers with a punch to the boy’s arm. “We heard about a load of money getting stashed in the barber store, moonshine money. A whole cart left yesterday with a load so there’ll be a bunch of money in there already.”

   Arthur hesitates for a moment. It’s enough time for Ava to think that he’s going to drag their sorry hides back to camp and let them face whatever hell Dutch or Grimshaw have in store. But he sighs, the way only Arthur does; defeated but not unhappy, like something within him can’t _not_ help.

   “Alright, but you two follow _my_ lead. You hear? Now come on.”

   She could kiss him, she really could. Instead, Ava takes Arthur’s hand and ignores the way John scoffs at them. But Arthur’s got that soft smile that makes Ava’s knees a little weak.

   They change the plan only slightly. Ava’s the only one of the roof, she’ll sneak in and unlock the back door for the boys. Arthur argues at first but relents when she mentions how creaky the roof is. He watches her every step, teeth clenched and hands shaking, and he almost rushes up to help a few times. But John drags him to the back door with a sickened look and grumbles something under his breath.

   The window is easy enough to jimmy open. Ava slips inside and closes it before sneaking down the stairs. There’s no one inside, that she can hear, and it’s almost too dark to see. Anxiety kicks in and Ava can’t help but rush downstairs. It isn’t until the others are inside with her that Ava’s nerves settle.

   “Alright, where’s this money?” Arthur asks, visibly calming down when his warm hand finds hers. They awkwardly crouch-walk over to the counter to keep out of the lights from the streets. It takes a little guesswork but when Ava finds the right floorboard, Arthur’s by her side and he helps pull the board from where it’s wedged between to other boards. It comes away with a creak and Ava’s heartbeat races when Arthur reaches in.

   “Is there anything?” John doesn’t, or can’t, hide the nerves in his voice and it doesn’t help Ava’s. But then Arthur huffs and pulls out a bag.

   “We got something alright.” The words have barely gotten out of Arthur’s mouth before he pulls the cord undone. It’s like a rock has been pulled from Ava’s throat and breathing becomes so easy when they all look inside and see stacks of money. “Goddamn. That’s a whole lotta cash.”

   “Seriously? You mean I actually got a good lead?”

   “Yeah you did, kid.” The smile on John’s face is wonderful, unhindered in the way only kids can smile. It makes all the dread and worry worth it.

   “You’ll be an outlaw yet, Johnny boy.”

   “You and be both, Ava.” 

   They’re both too busy smiling at each other to notice the sad look that crosses Arthur’s face. He shouldn’t be jealous, he ain’t, but part of him thinks that he’ll never be special to her like John; engagement or not. But then Ava turns her smile from John to him and that seed of doubt is pushed aside by a warm blossoming of hope.

   “Alright you two, we got lucky. We’d best be heading back to the others before they send one of the idiots out after us.”

   “We’re gonna be in trouble, aren’t we?” Ava asks as she follows Arthur and John back outside. The town is still quiet, and no one even notices them leave.

   Arthur’s face turns grim. “Most certainly. But don’t you worry, Ava. You got me.”

   Just like that, everything feels alright. Ava can’t help but believe Arthur, especially with that soft smile he saves just for her. Behind them, John rolls his eyes and pretends to vomit against a fence.

   As soon as they arrive back at camp, Arthur and John are dragged away by Miss Grimshaw with a promise from Dutch for a talking to later. But it’s Ava who gets a scolding first. Dutch’s hand is rough on her arm as he drags her to his tent with Hosea hot on their heels. With the tent-flap shut and the lamplight glowing across the small space, Dutch seems much bigger. But Ava, ever stubborn, stands her ground and waits for the lecture.

   “What the hell were you thinkin’, Ava?” Dutch’s face goes red with anger, his hands more animated than usual. “Dragging John to a robbery without telling me? Or Hosea? Who do you think you are, little miss?”

   Ava could argue that it was John’s idea first, and that there was no ‘dragging’ involved. But it wouldn’t matter. She’s old enough to notice that John’s the favourite and she’s still Dutch’s daughter; but it’s not the same. “We ain’t kids no more, Dutch. We did what all you others do: find a lead, scope it out, and then get in and out without getting caught. We got the money too! I don’t see what the problem is.”

   “And that right there is part of the problem, Ava! You went ahead without telling anyone, took it all on, yourself. Do you have any idea how dangerous robberies can be?”

   “Yeah, from what everyone has told me. And that’s all I get: stories. Because you insist on treating me like a kid!”

   “Insist? I treat you the way any young lady should be treated. And you shouldn’t be running around on your own, dragging John with you, to a goddamn robbery!”

   “I wasn’t on my own! Arthur was with us! And even if he hadn’t been, John and I were fine. We had a plan!”

   “Alright!” Hosea interrupts, hands held up to separate the two. “This is going nowhere. Both of you need to cool your tempers before you burn this camp down. Ava,” he says with that calm but scolding tone. “From now on, you come to either myself, Dutch or Arthur if you think you’ve got a lead. I think it’s time we get you out there and earning your keep.”

   “Hosea-”

   “Don’t you start, Dutch. She’s right, Ava isn’t a kid anymore. So, if we want her to be safer on jobs, we gotta teach her. And we’ll only teach you, young lady, if you behave so we can trust you with these kinds of things. Deal?”

   “Deal,” Ava says quickly. She may be stubborn but she’s no fool. This is probably the best chance she’ll have to be able to work like the other boys.

   Dutch takes a long look at her, like he’s deciding whether to take her seriously or not. Ava knows it’s a victory when Dutch sighs. “Alright, Hosea. It’s a deal.”

 

_TBC_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a whole bunch of reasons why this is so late, but we don't have that sort of time.   
> I've recently started replaying RDR2 and boy does it hurt. So let's just call this my own therapy.   
> I hope, despite the appalling (and nonexistent) update schedule, that you guys are still enjoying this story. I do have a plan, I know where this is going, and I will finish this story!   
> Next chapter skips a few years and a lot of change is about to happen. 
> 
> Thanks again and I hope you continue to enjoy this. Feel free to chat with me on tumblr! I'm back into the habit of writing and I'm keen to be writing HC, requests and so on. 
> 
> see you in the next one :)


	6. issues with earning a position for learning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Education is important, Ava knows this. 
> 
> Doesn't mean she likes Hosea's idea, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhhhhHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
> 
> Why did this take so damn long to write??! Honestly, it was so difficult to just. Write. This. Chapter!!! 
> 
> No more ado, let's just get it. 
> 
> Enjoy 
> 
> Disclaimer:  
> Characters aren't mine, mistakes are.

 

When Arthur gets back from a rather successful job with Mac, tricking a rich fool out of his monthly earnings, the first thing he wants to do is tell Ava. After that barbershop robbery, Dutch had brought Ava along on a few jobs before he trusted her enough to go without him. But Arthur was usually with her and she never minded. In fact, she seemed happier to have him with her.

   “Can’t wait to show Dutch how much we pulled,” Mac says with a broad grin. He’s not as big as Arthur, still a little smaller in the shoulders; but that’s what you get for being seventeen. He’s still got that boyish cheek to him and it makes Arthur feel old.  

   “Yeah, just make sure the camp gets its share. Go put it in the donation box.”

   “What about you, Arthur? Ain’t gonna go tell Dutch?”

   “Nah, you go on.”

   “Oh, I see.” Mac slides off his horse, Brigg, and leans casually against the hitching post. “You’d rather go see Ava, right? That girl has got you twisted up, she does.”

   “Shut up.”

   “Ah, don’t get so out-of-sorts. She ain’t my type, too bossy.”

   “Ava ain’t bossy,” Arthur grumbles and smacks Mac over the back of his head. “And as if she’d give you a chance.”

   “You never know, Arthur! She might like ‘em scrappy.”

   “Scrappy, not dirty. Get on over to Dutch, idiot.”

   “Aye, Mr Morgan.”

      If he could smack that knowing smirk off Mac’s face, he would. But first, he’s got to find Ava. Unable to spot her, Arthur trudges over to Hosea who’s glaring at the newspaper.

   “Anything good?” He asks, grabbing his belt and acting casual.

   “Arthur, you’re back. How’d it go?”

   “Good, good.”

   “Mac behave himself?”

   “Kept his temper down. You could almost say he was charming.”

   “That’s something, at least. How much was it?”

   “A few hundred. Mac’s gone to hand it in.” 

   “Aha.” Arthur hasn’t even noticed that Hosea’s put the newspaper down. He’s too busy scanning the camp. “You looking for Ava?”

   “Ah- yeah… Yeah I am.”

  “I’m afraid you missed her. Ran off an hour ago.”

   “Ran off? Where? Why?” 

   Hosea sighs like he’s ten years older. “Her and I got into a bit of an argument. You know how she is when she’s mad: running off before it comes to blows. She’ll be back later tonight, I reckon.”

   “What’d you do?”

   “Well, I’m glad you put so much faith in me. Ava’s the one who got out of sorts, I’ll have you know. That girl doesn’t understand the importance of education.”

   “Education? What’re you on about?”

   “It seems that Hosea thinks our Ava should go to school, Arthur.” Dutch comes strutting up out of nowhere. He doesn’t seem angry or happy about the situation.

  “She should. Ava’s got more brains than she cares to use.”

   “I agree. Hosea’s even got her all set up to go. She’ll be studying law and a few extra papers that we think could be useful.”

   “For _her future_.”

  “Of course. Now, Arthur, we are aware of your… engagement with Ava. But Hosea and I think it’ll be best that Ava attends university first, put that brain of hers to good use. That won’t be a problem, will it?”

   It takes Arthur a second too long to reply. Because it _is_ a problem. Things between them haven’t changed, Ava still treats him the same, and Arthur is still too cocky and arrogant to even think about settling down. But when he proposed almost two years ago, Ava became his. Not entirely, but in a weird, quiet way that made sense but also it didn’t. He’d proposed to Ava so she wouldn’t have to leave the gang. But now she might be shipped off to university; away from him.

   “I just don’t see how sending her off to a university will help her.”

   “And neither does Ava, I’m afraid.” Hosea tired, but determined. “But, it ain’t like we’re going to be doing this for the rest of our lives. And Ava’s young, she should be aiming for more than outlawing, don’t you think? It’ll set her up for a brighter future.”

   Arthur gets it, he really, truly does. That doesn’t mean he likes it.

   “How long will it take?”

   “About three years.”

   “Three years?!”

   “Easy there, big fella,” Dutch says jovially, like this is all some sort of joke. It’s not, Arthur thinks adamantly. “That may seem like a long time, but it really ain’t. How long have you known Ava? Ten years?”

   “About that.”

   “And has that felt like a long time?”

   It’s not really a fair question. Retrospect has a tendency to ignore the rules of time. So when Arthur thinks back on the last decade worth of memories of Ava, it doesn’t feel that long. But ten years, even in the grand scope of things, is a long time. That’s why Arthur agrees that three years isn’t long, without really realizing it.

   “The only problem is that Ava doesn’t agree. She thinks it’ll be too long and that too much will change. I’ve tried talking to her plenty of times but alas…”

   “She’s a stubborn one.” Dutch makes no mention of his own attempts and Arthur already knows why. Because he hasn’t tried. Arthur’s always found it funny how Dutch avoids upsetting Ava, of arguing with her. Sure, he can yell at her and give her a good telling off when _she’s_ done wrong, but never has he broached a topic that could make him the villain to his princess.

   “Hell, even John tried.”

   “Marston?”

   “Mhm, nearly bit the poor boy’s head off. It’s looking more like we’ll have to hogtie her and ship her off.”

   “We ain’t doing that, Hosea. Not unless we want her storming back here like a fiend.”

   “True…”

   “I could talk to her.”

   Both Hosea and Dutch look at Arthur; one surprised and the other not surprised enough.

   “You think you can, son?”

   “Sure,” Arthur shrugs. “I mean- if I could convince her to marry me, this shouldn’t be so difficult.”  That earns him a bark of laughter from Dutch and a pat of the back from Hosea. They wish him luck, because he’ll certainly need it, and Hosea points him in the right direction.

 

 

   He finds her, of all places, in a tree. 

   When they were younger, Ava would climb trees all the time because Hosea got antsy when she would try to climb the buildings in town. Thankfully she’s not in a dress, otherwise, Arthur has no doubts that Miss Grimshaw would climb up there just to drag Ava back down.

   “Ain’t you one strange looking bird.” He calls out, hoping she’s in a good enough mood to laugh. It’s always easier to get through to Ava when she’s not angry. It’s the smallest movement but he catches it. Ava looks down at him for a moment and smiles. That’s more than enough for Arthur to climb up after her. It’d be easier if he were shorter, like Ava, but he manages with only a little trouble and perches himself the branch next to her.

   “Wow, that was mighty elegant.” She says, trying to hide her grin.

   “Shut up short arse.”

   “I could climb higher, if you want-”

   “Don’t you dare.” There’s a pause that seems to sober them both up. “Just got back from that job with Mac.”

   “How was it?”

   “S’alright. Got a pretty decent score.”

   “Best part of a job, ain’t it?”

   “Usually… as long as the company’s good.” There’s tension in Ava’s jaw and Arthur’s run out of ways to beat around the bush. “I talked to Hosea…”

   “I guessed that.”

   “University? Really?”

   “Trust me, Arthur, it weren’t my idea.”

   “No, I wouldn’t think so.”

   “And what do you think about it?”

   There’s a voice in his head, a mixture of Hosea and Dutch’s, telling him what to say. But, when he looks at Ava, they go quiet. He’s got his own words, his own things he wants to say, but none of it forms coherently enough to come out right.

   “Well, Hosea said-”

   “I _know_ what Hosea said.” She lets out a long sigh, defeated or tired, Arthur’s not sure. He kicks his feet a little and watches the twig he’s been twisting in his fingers fall. “I don’t want to leave my family, Arthur.”

   Her voice is small. It’s been years since he’s heard her sound so vulnerable; always trying to keep up with the boys. Not even in front of Dutch and Hosea would she dare sound like this. But he’s special to her. And she is to him.

   “Look, it ain’t that bad. If you think about it… ah-you get to learn a bunch and… and I’m sure there’s plenty of interesting people there for you to meet.”

   “I heard that all for Hosea and I get it. And I get that it’ll be beneficial for my future and I’ll have all this knowledge to help me succeed in life yadda yadda and so on.”

   “Then what’s got you so mad?”

   “Because I don’t want to leave! I don’t want to be sent away from my goddamn family! It’s just like when Miss Grimshaw was pushing for me to get married. She decided what was best for my future, without even asking me, and wanted me to leave the gang at some point. Which is not what I want! This family is all I’ve got, goddammit!” 

   Despite keeping her eyes on the fields before them, Arthur can see the pain and unshed tears in Ava’s eyes. It breaks his heart a little. But he knows the decision has already been made and it’s up to him to convince her, for her own sake. 

   “Ava, look at me.” She doesn’t so he nudges her knee with his. “I said look at me.” He tries his best not to flinch at her glare. “This is a great opportunity for you. You shouldn’t pass it up.”

   “But-”

   “But nothing. And three years ain’t gonna change the fact that you’re family. We know your loyalty is with us, never doubted it. If three years was all it took for us to abandon someone, Dutch never would’ve given Trelawny a second look.”

   She looks at him, for a solid moment, and Arthur feels like his heart’s in his throat. He can’t tell what she’s thinking.

 

   Ava feels her chest tighten when she looks at Arthur. At first, all she could hear was Hosea’s words through Arthur’s voice. But the more he went on and the more confidence he got, the more the words sounded like his own. This pause, however, kills whatever confidence he had. Anxiety pulls him back and it breaks her heart a little. It hurts seeing him doubting himself.

   “You sure it’ll be alright?” She asks the question for Arthur, to make him feel needed; which he always is.

   “Of course, sweetheart. Besides, three years ain’t that long. And just think of all the books you’ll get to read.”

   “Yeah but what about everything I’ll miss with the gang?”

   “You mean robbing and shooting? You’ve been doing that most of your life. Ain’t like you’ll be missing anything new.”

   “And the people? What if something happens to one of you and I’m not there?”

   “Well…”

   Part of Ava softens a little at Arthur scratching the back of his head. He’s trying, _really_ trying. And just for him, she relents a little. “I guess it’s not like you’re all going to forget me.”

   “Of course not.”

   “And learning a bunch more would be great.”

   “See? You’re sounding excited already.”

   “But… three years is so long.”

   “It ain’t that long.”

   It’s the way Arthur says it that makes Ava pause. When she looks at him, he’s looking elsewhere. There’s a pinch to his brows and his mouth is downturned. He doesn’t believe his words, if they’re even his own, but he wants _her_ to. Ava’s hand finds his and Arthur doesn’t hesitate in flipping his hand over to hold hers.

   “It… it probably won’t feel that long.”

   “Sure. I’m sure you’re right.”

   They sit together for a little while longer, holding hands and looking out over the fields. And it’s moments like these that she _knows_ she’ll miss. But Hosea’s right, and she knew this from the start, that University would be the best thing for a brainy young lady like herself.

   Ava sighs, despite the smile she gives Arthur and says, “guess I’ll go tell Hosea and Dutch the good news.”

 

 

   It only takes a few days before Ava’s ready for University. It all happens far too quickly. Before she knows it, her trunk is full and she’s on a train with Dutch, Hosea, Arthur and John. The five of them ride the train into town, looking like a strange sort of family. It takes barely a second before Dutch is lamenting about the scourge of civilization. Ava doesn’t like it either and she sours at the irony of them leaving her smack in the middle of it. The station is full of men and women in some of the nicest clothing Ava has ever seen. There’s pearls and feathers mixed with lace and frills. Hosea pinches her arm when he spots Ava looking at potential pockets to pick. John’s doing it too, but no one pays him any mind.

   “We ain’t here for that,” he mutters to her.

   “Why not? This place is perfect for it.”

   “You are not starting your time here being nabbed for pick-pocketing. Now, outside with you.”

   It’s Arthur who carries Ava’s trunk out, refusing to let her do so. Despite the rough-cocky outlaw he can often be, Ava’s always loved his little gestures of gentlemanliness; something Dutch had taught him to help with his charm. But there’s something genuine about it whenever he does it, not a show or a means to an end.

   While Dutch talks to a driver standing by a coach, Ava takes in the city and scowls.

   “I hate this.”

   “Why’re there so many goddamn people?” John adds, looking just as uncomfortable. Arthur cuffs him over the head. “The hell?”

   “Quit your frowning and help me with this trunk.” He practically drags the boy over to her trunk to help him store it in the coach. Hosea stands beside her and Ava begins to feel nervous.

   “Well, my girl, we’ll say our goodbyes here.”

   “You ain’t coming with?”

   “What? And let everyone see you arriving with a bunch of rough outlaws? No, no. This’ll be hard enough without a start like that.”

   “It’ll be easier if I just don’t go.”

   “Now, none of that. You promised.”

   “I know.”

   “Good. You’ll be fine. Use your head for your studies and that charm for your friends. This’ll be a walk in the park. Now, say your goodbyes and be off with you.”

   Despite his words, it takes Hosea a moment longer to let Ava go when he hugs her. As much as she’s Dutch’s princess, she’s still Hosea’s little girl.

   Then it’s John’s turn. He’s still standing about like he’s bored, and Ava can see right through him.

   “Have fun learning how to read,” John says like a taunt. Ava rolls her eyes.

   “Have fun learning not to fall off your horse.”

   “Go play dress-up like a lady.”

   “Go learn to swim.

   There’s a pause, caused by boyish pride and girlish stubbornness. Then John’s arms are around her and Ava’s holding the boy just as tightly.

   “Don’t you forget me,” he mumbles into her ear.

   “Not ever.”

   When they pull back, they’re smiling teasingly like always.

   “I’ll be taller than you by time this is all over with.”

   “In your dreams, Johnny-boy.” Then it’s Arthur’s turn. He’s nervous, which doesn’t suit him, and it makes her a little sad. “Three years ain’t that long.”

   “Ain’t that long.” He says it like a mantra, as if trying to convince himself. She’s been thinking the same thing. There’s no need for more words; it’s not his strong suit and she can’t bare to break down in front of him. So, he hugs her. She hugs him back. Ava knew saying goodbye to Arthur would be hard, but not this bad. And if her lips brushed the corners of his while they let each other go, then that’d be something to distract her from the nerves in her gut. 

   “See you soon.”

   “Yeah... soon, Ava.”

   Suddenly, it’s Dutch’s turn. Ava’s genuinely sad to say goodbye to him, but a part of her wishes for just a moment longer with Arthur. She’s not sure why, just that it would’ve been nice.

   Dutch hugs her tightly like he did when she was little. A firm grip on her shoulders and a slight sway as if they were dancing. The smile that spreads across her face comes so easily.

   “Don’t go getting arrested or hanged while I’m away,” she teases, knowing that she’s one of the few who can.

   “Oh-ho, you think I’ll get caught? Have a little faith in your old man.”

   “I’ll just figure out how to get you out through some bullshit loophole.”

   “That would be appreciated.”

   Then, like the turning of the tide, that joviality slips away as the weight of the next three years settles in. “Don’t go too far away.”

   “Of course not, my girl. We don’t leave family behind.”

   She hugs him again, quick but strong, and Dutch huffs a little laugh as he pulls back.

   “We’ll see you soon, sweetheart.” Dutch kisses Ava’s cheek and gives her a wink. “Now, go show those uppity fools what you’re made of.”

 

_TBC_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> University? Did anyone see this coming?  
> So there will be a bit of separation from the gang but that's how life goes in Ava's world.  
> I know there was a lot of talking so I hope I did the characters some justice, it's hard to get their voices 100% right sometimes. Let me know how I did.  
> Hopefully the next chapter doesn't take as long, I'm excited to go completely off on my own rather than tiptoe-ing canon history!  
> Please let me know what you think, and if you're still enjoying this story! Comments really do help me know how I am doing and they're amazing sources of encouragement.  
> Take care of yourself. 
> 
> See you in the next one :)


	7. the laws of students and spelling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Living with students and letters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo
> 
>  
> 
> So, this chapter is a little jumpy as I am using as an interlude to kind of bridge a large amount of time. I haven't specified the time frame but try to think about it as most of Ava's first year of university.  
> I still can't believe I sent her to university. 
> 
> Anyways, more notes about the chapter at the end.  
> Come find me on tumblr: keeping-10-people-happy.tumblr.com 
> 
> Enjoy :) 
> 
> Disclaimer:  
> Characters aren't mine but the mistakes certainly are.

The first friend Ava made at University was a young lady named Diana. And, despite her impressive intelligence, there was something naïve about Diana’s personality. At the first snide comment made by a bunch of cocky, rich boys, Ava had stuck by her side like some sort of bodyguard. Sweet, beautiful and studious, Diana found rough-and-ready Ava to be fascinating.

   It was hard for Ava to keep her temper in the beginning. She was so used to snapping at the fellas around camp that it didn’t feel strange to do so to the men around her. Which went over poorly with many of her male professors. Her saving-grace was her two female professors. Despite being authorities in their fields, their gender alone tends to be reason enough for their male colleagues to overlook them. Which only caused a strong sense of solidarity between most women at the university; a support system Ava never experienced before. It was actually invaluable, in Ava’s opinion.

 

~

 

The first letter from the gang arrived two months after university started. She could tell it was from Dutch before she even opened the envelope.

 

_Dearest Ava,_

_I hope you’re enjoying all the luxuries of a university student while we, your humble band of misfits, rough it out in the wild. I hope the exposure to civilization does not tempt you into becoming a lady of society._  
_All jokes aside, don’t worry about us. We’re still living the dream, chasing our fortune and going where we please. We all miss you dreadfully, the boys especially. But what you’re doing is important; remember that._  
_Work hard, and we will see you when we can._

_Yours, ever-faithfully,_

_Dutch._

_~_

 

   She wakes up to the sound of Laura, her roommate, singing and shuffling about. It’s a modest little room with plenty of books and plants. The plants were the first thing Ava had bought, missing the outdoors after a whole day of lectures and study. Laura loved it, said it was like they had a jungle of their own.

   “Best you get up soon, you have a lecture, no?” Laura asks, her French accent stronger when it’s just the two of them. Ava groans a little and sinks further beneath her blankets. It’s the first time she’s ever owned a bed and it’s incredible. “If you don’t meet Missy downstairs, I’m sure she’ll charge up here herself.”

   “Anything to see me in my nightgown.”

   “Oh, Ava.” Laura scoffs, a little scandalized. Missy is one of those women who just won’t ever find a husband. Not that it matters.

   “I’m only joking around, you know that.”

   Missy does indeed charge up to their room, but after Ava has gotten dressed. Unlike Laura and Diana, Missy wears plain dresses and skirt; like Ava. Her personality, strong and bold, is all the accessory she needs. She’s a curvy young lady with a round face, hard eyes and the softest blonde hair Ava has ever felt.

   “You’re up? Excellent, we can grab some breakfast before class starts.” Missy announces like a General, although her father was only a Captain. “Ah, good morning Laura. Studies going well?”

   “Indeed, Missy.”

   “Glad to hear. You’ll be joining us ladies for the meeting this afternoon?”

   “Meeting?” Ava asks, stuffing her books into her satchel, something she bought the first week of school.

   “That had better be a joke, Munroe.” Ava doesn’t respond and Missy sighs. “I swear, all my words go in one ear and out the other. The weekly meeting us university women go to? The one we went to last Wednesday?”

   “Oh, _that_ meeting. Is it here already?”

   “Enough with your sass. Come on, I need some decent food if I’m to put up with your humour all day. See you at the meeting, Laura.”

   “Of course.” The woman in question smiles politely but Ava already knows that Laura won’t be attending. Not when a certain young man already has plans with her.

   Ava and Missy grab breakfast on campus and discuss their upcoming papers. Whereas Missy frets about the philosophy of Law, Ava talks about the cases she read over the weekend; having already finished her essay. Women in law aren’t common, and Ava had made very sure that Hosea knew that. But and she’ll never admit it, the information she has learned is ridiculously helpful. While Missy wishes to be a lawyer like her father, Ava makes notes and plans on what would be most helpful to the gang. She pretends to share Missy’s goal, rather than revealing herself as an outlaw. So far, only Diana knows; and she thinks it’s all rather exciting.

   They meet Diana on the way to class, wearing a fancy blue dress with lace trimmings. She looks like a doll that Bessie once gave Ava when she was young.

   “Good morning, you two,” Diana says with a wide smile. She almost bounces her way to Ava’s side and even militant Missy cannot help but be charmed. “How did you find the readings?”

   “Dry.” Ava says.

   “Boring.” Missy adds. Diana snorts a laugh and loops her arm through Ava’s.

   “I must agree. It feels like every single expert on law forgot creativity when it came to their writings.”

   “Lawyers have no souls,” Ava recites in her best Dutch impression. Diana finds it amusing while it leaves Missy confused.

   “What’re you ladies still doing here? You won’t find a husband in class.”

   It’s like her rage is turned on with a switch. As soon as Ava hears those snide voices, her entire body tenses. There’s three of them: Tyler Branson, Oliver Jones and Johnathan Belmont. It’s not the words or the smirks that get under Ava’s skin; she’s grown up with cocky boys and put them all in their place. It’s the haughty entitlement that they don’t even try to hide that makes Ava’s blood boil. What’s worse is the way they look at Diana like she’s some kind of plaything.

   “You’re absolutely right.” Ava says in her most genteel voice, although it’s difficult to maintain. “I haven’t found a single man I’d like to marry. All I do find are whiny boys who still cling to their fathers’ coattails. Oh, what a shame.”

   “With a tongue like that, I suspect you won’t find any husband.”

   They all turn to the voice approaching from down the hall and Ava fights back a sigh. It’s Henry Sharpe. He’s tall, well built, clever and well mannered. Ava would call him handsome if it weren’t for that fact that he’d agree with her.

   Diana’s grip on Ava’s arm tightens as he walks closer. His hands are in his pockets and his strides are easy-going. Although he isn’t Missy’s type, she does soften her staunch expression a little.

   “Ah Mr Sharpe, how long have you been waiting to use that line?” Ava can’t help it. As much as the other boys get under her skin, Henry Sharpe is worse. She has not restraint when it comes to his charming brand of arrogance.

   “What makes you think I spent any time coming up with it? You think I’d waste my time trying to appear funny?”

   “If your hair is anything to go by, I’d say you waste a lot of your time on appearances.”

   It earns her a bark of laughter. If it had been anyone else, it would’ve turned into an argument.

   “So harsh, Miss Munroe. And after I went to all the trouble to get you something.”

   “Excuse me?”

   His hand slips into his pocket and Ava almost flinches at his smile as he pulls out a letter. “I was collecting my own mail when I saw this on Mrs Fielding’s desk. I thought you would appreciate the gesture.”

   “How very kind of you, Mr Sharpe.” There’s nothing kind about the way Ava says it. Henry holds the letter out for Ava but snatches back just before she can grab it.

   “Who’s T. Kilgore? A suitor, perhaps?”

   “Family. Now, may I have my letter?”

   He looks to the other three men like it’s some sort of secret. Missy tenses beside Ava while Diana frets between fear and standing up for her friend. Ava just glares.

   “After all the trouble I went through, I would’ve thought you’d be more appreciative. Perhaps even willing to offer a reward.”

   “A reward? Like what, exactly?”

   There’s a pause that only serves to boil Ava’s blood even more. “Dinner?”

   “Seriously?”

   “I could always hold onto it while you make up your mind.”

   She doesn’t even bother hiding the anger in her voice. “That letter is addressed to me and by not giving it to me, your actions can be classed as theft. Or have you not grasped that basic concept yet?”

   He smiles again, like this is all a fun game, and hands it to her. Ava grabs it quickly and slips it into her pocket.

   “We’d all best get to class,” Diana says, always doing her best to sound cordial. “We know how the professor gets if we’re late.”

   “Of course,” Henry says with his attention solely on Ava. “After you, ladies.”

   Ava drags her two friends away so fast that they end up in class before the professor.

 

    

~

 

 

   After class, once she’s managed to find her own spot in the library, Ava pulls the letter out. The handwriting on the envelope is Hosea’s but the letter itself is not from him.

 

_Dear Ava,_

_It's John. I hope you are learning a lot so you can come back home soon. Hosea has been teaching me more but it is not as fun without you. I finally got a horse and I have named her Louise, like your sister. She is pretty and she can run very fast. I think you would like her. I know being around all of those rich folk won’t be very fun for you. That’s why I have been trying to convince Dutch and Hosea to let me see you. We shall see if it works._  
_I miss you. I hope you miss me too._  
_From John._

   There’s a drawing of what she thinks is supposed to be John on top of a horse, or a long-necked dog. She tucks it away with Dutch’s letter underneath her pillow before she heads out with Laura for dinner.

 

 

~

 

 

   They’re at the local bar one evening: Ava, Missy, Laura and Diana. Missy’s friend, Victor has also joined them. He’s a tall, lanky and as pale as snow. He’s terribly clever with gentle mannerisms and a strong sense of justice.

   They’re all a little tipsy and full of confectioneries and pastries. It was Ava’s birthday last week and only now have they had the time to go out. Diana had bought Ava a new blouse while Laura gifted a matching hat. Missy had given several books that Ava had mentioned she was interested in borrowing. Even Victor had given a gift: a smart little notebook with her initials beautifully drawn on the first page.

   They’re all so lovely and Ava treasures them dearly. But none of them hold a candle to what Hosea had sent her. Along with a letter that read:

 

 

_Happy Birthday Ava,_

_I’m sorry we can’t be there to celebrate with you, but I’m sure you’ll find your own fun easily enough. Just try not to get into trouble, for your old man’s sake._  
_Everyone sends their love and well wishes, and we all miss you (even Bill which is a surprise to us all). Keep up the hard work and do us proud._

_All the best,_

_H.M_

   As well as a photograph of the whole gang. It was funny to see all the young boys dressed up nicely (obviously on Miss Grimshaw’s orders), and half of them look far too uncomfortable in front of the camera. But Mac, John and Arthur are smiling. Dutch, Hosea, Bessie and Miss Grimshaw are too. The photograph remains tucked in her skirt pocket which Ava keeps reaching for throughout the night.

   While the other three engage in a debate that Ava hasn’t paid attention to, Missy and Victor offering their opinions while Diana mediates, Laura shuffles her chair closer to Ava’s.

   “You are having fun?” She asks, leaning very close with a bright red blush on her cheeks.

   “Yeah, and so are you, by the looks of things.” Ava replies with a laugh, her own cheeks feeling rather warm.

   “It has been some time since I have gone out with friends. It is nice.”

   “I’m glad to hear. How’s things with…”

   “Thomas? Oh, they are good. Very good.”

   “Really? Are there any… _details_ you feel willing to share?”

   “Ava!” Laura shoves Ava. Or tries to. Ava barely moves but she does laugh. “It is not like that. We go for walks and talk over breakfast. He is a gentleman.”

   “Good! He should be. I won’t tolerate no foolishness on his part. He does you wrong, you bring him to me. I’ll sort him out the old-fashioned way”

   “Listen to you, sounding like those cowboys from the West.”

   “Who’s to say I ain’t one?”

   “Are you?” Laura leans closer, dropping her voice to a whisper, to the point where their noses bump and it sends the women into a fit of giggles. They sober up after a moment and Laura smiles kindly at Ava. “You know, Ava, there are some fine men around here. And you are a wonderful, smart, beautiful woman. I believe you could find a man very easily.”

   “From this lot? Like who?”

   “How about Mr Sharpe?” Ava barks out a laugh so loud that several patrons turn to look before returning to their own conversations. “What? I think he is fond you.”

   “He’s fond of teasing me. That don’t equate to liking someone.”

   “I am sure he means nothing cruel by it. It is like when young boys pull on girls’ hair, it is a sign that they want attention.”

   “And here I thought we were all supposed to be bright young adults. Not kids in a playground.”

   “But what if you gave him attention? Would it be so bad? I dare say he is rather handsome. And he’s smart and quick-witted like you.”

   “He’s an ass, a pompous ass and he has no qualms about showing.”

   “You can be an ass too, sometimes.”

   “Hey!” Ava tries her best to look offended, but it only makes them laugh again. “I don’t care if Mr Sharpe is the world’s most intelligent or handsome man. There’s more to being with someone than how smart they are or how good they look.”

   “You talk like you have someone like that.”

   “Well… maybe I do.”

   “Oh?”

   Ava pauses for a second, pressing her hand against her skirt pocket. A warm smile slips onto Ava’s face as she thinks back on her memories. “There is… kinda. It’s a little complicated.”

   “Then tell me what he is like.”

   “He’s kind. A little arrogant and cocky, likes to show off. But, when it’s just us, he’s thoughtful and sweet. He ain’t the most confident in himself and he won’t ever accept a compliment. But he’s the bravest, most selfless fool I know. I guess he’s handsome, I’ve known him too long to really tell. He’s got intelligence but he’s just not good at showing it or explaining himself. But I understand him.”

   “He sounds like quite a man. I feel sorry for Mr Sharpe.”

   “Why in the world would you feel sorry for that idiot?”

   Laura smiles like she knows a secret. “Because he has no hope of winning you over.”

 

 

~

 

 

   It’s several month later when the next letter arrives; longer than the last time. The letter itself is longer than the other two and Ava has to wait several hours to read it. But, once she is finally done with classes and meetings for the day, Ava tucks herself into bed and pulls out the letter. She almost cries when she sees Arthur’s handwriting.

 

 

_Dear Ava,_  
_I hope you are learning many interesting and helpful things at university. It feels like years have passed since I last saw you, so unhappy with leaving. But I try to remember you smiling, you always look so lovely when you smile. I cannot express how much I miss you. All I can say is that no job feels complete without you there to celebrate with. No story is worth mentioning unless I can tell it to you._  
_But I know that what you are doing is more important._  
_Remembering that is the only thing stopping me from writing to you every day, from riding off to see you. Hosea reminds me each time I look ready to bolt. I cannot interrupt your work; you need the focus. So, I will continue to wait and save all of the best stories for when you return._  
_However, now that I have a day off (I don’t know what was put in Susan’s coffee this morning, but she has been uncharacteristically pleasant. I hope it lasts a while) I can share a few stories of what everyone has been up to. I hope these stories provide some entertainment and reprieve when you need it most._

 

He tells her about everyone, from the Callendar boys to Bessie. There are a couple stories about John since Arthur knows how close Ava and the boy are. There’s plenty about Dutch, Hosea and Susan and even an entertaining one about Pearson.

   What upsets her is that there’s no stories about Arthur.

   But she hears his voice when she reads his words. Her fingers trace over the small drawings he leaves along the margins. The words Arthur signed off with - “ _I miss you, and I will see you soon (just not soon enough). With love, from Arthur”,_ are reread to the point where she remembers the shape of each letter when she closes her eyes. In the several months of being away, Ava’s never felt more homesick.

   But Arthur is right. Her studies are important, to the gang and to herself. The friends she’s made might not be like the gang, but they’re important too. So, while Ava can’t shake missing home, she does feel more resolved to see her studies through. Because three years isn’t that long, and they’ll all be waiting for her when she gets back.

   Just like they promised. 

 

 

_TBC_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boy-o-boy.  
> Welp, there's that chapter done and done. I hope you enjoyed it, I had a lot of fun writing it.  
> It was cool to write the letters as John, Dutch, Hosea and Arthur, a nice change of pace. I hope I did them justice, it is a little tricky finding their voices but I tried to make it sort of similar to how it is in the game for Arthur and John.  
> And I hope you guys liked the friends I made for Ava (that sounds weird and a little creepy). They were a refreshing bunch to write.  
> If you guys want to talk or comment about this chapter, please do! It means so much to hear from you!  
> Next chapter, there will be a special guest coming to university. If you guess it right, I might sort out some sort of reward/prize! We'll see :D 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and thank you for sticking with. 
> 
> see you in the next one :)


	8. remind me again of what i had planned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A surprise and a reminder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is long.   
> Hecking long. 
> 
>  
> 
> Characters aren't mine, the mistakes are. 
> 
> Enjoy :)

There are only a few months left of Ava’s degree and the pressure is almost suffocating. The letters from the gang have been few and far between. But, honestly, she has been too busy to worry about it. Things with Missy haven’t changed. If anything, she’s even more angry and embittered by the blatant disregard women receive. Diana is well, busy with her studies and her budding romance with Victor (that everyone but the two of them saw). If there was any man Ava thought was good enough for sweet Diana, it was lovely Victor.

   The strangest thing, however, is that over the months of studying together, Ava has managed to find a friend in Henry. It took him a while to learn that Ava wasn’t the type to be teased, but once he did, Ava begrudgingly realized that he wasn’t all that bad. Henry sort of reminded her of the boys in the gang; always trying to fill bigger boots. Once she had realized that, the friendship and camaraderie came without force or fanfare.

   They’ve just left one of their lectures, all of them eager to get to the library to study. Laura had barely managed a goodbye before racing back to their dorm room for her textbooks. Ava finds herself strolling alongside Henry, the pair of them are top of their class and fortunate not to be crushed by stress. Not that there is none, there’s plenty of moon-shaped scars on the backs of her hands.

   “So…” Henry begins with a devious little grin on his face that still irks Ava, despite the comfortable friendship between them.

   Ava heaves a sigh. “If you ask me how my paper is doing, _again,_ I will shove you into Professor Mason’s rosebushes.”

   “You would, wouldn’t you?” Ava smiles up at him, going for threatening but ultimately failing. She tries not to flinch at the adoring look in Henrys eyes.

   “How was town? I’m sorry I couldn’t make it, Missy wanted help handing out flyers.”

   “I saw those! Not to sound like I don’t support Miss Seymore, but her flyers were somewhat…”

   “Bold?”

   “Aggressive. I daresay she’s captured the entirety of her anger on paper.”

   “I think she’s entitled to her anger, Mr Sharpe.”

   Henry rubs the back of his neck at Ava’s cautioned tone. “I agree. But… for the sake of drawing others to her cause, I believe she’d benefit from withholding some of that anger. I don’t think it will do anything but bring more animosity.”

   “You’re probably right,” Ava sighs. As just as Missy’s anger is, it does make Ava more inclined to ignore her rather than join the rally. “I just wish more people could see that she’s a goddamn point!”

   “And they will, once they feel like she’s not attacking them.”

   “It’s stupid.”

   “Stupid? What an inspiring argument. You’ll be a lawyer yet, Miss Munroe.”

   “Shut up, before I call you stupid.”

   “If you call me stupid, I won’t tell you what I heard.”

   “This should be good,” she mutters to herself, fighting back a grin.

   Henry hesitates for a moment, weighing up whether to tell her or not; because he still cannot help teasing her. “There’s some ‘cowboy’ hanging around town. Apparently, he’s been asking after you.”

   “Really?” Just like that, everything comes to a standstill. There’s no distinction between outlaw and student, not like she’s been doing to keep herself sane. The mere possibility that it’s one of the gang has Ava all misplaced. She can’t help but hope. A letter would’ve been expected, unless someone happened to be on a job nearby. It takes a considerable amount of effort for Ava not to rush off into town in a mad search. “Do you know where this ‘cowboy’ might be?”

   “Since when are you in the business of knowing ‘cowboys’? Is there something I don’t know?”

   “There’s plenty. But do you know anything more?”

   “…He could be dangerous, Ava.”

   “It’ll be fine, trust me.”

   Henry sighs, unable to refuse her and Ava has the good manners to feel a little guilty. “From what I’ve heard, he’s staying at the inn near the pub. The one we all go to. He’s either there or in the park.”

   “Thank you! Excuse me.” Ava grabs Henry’s arms and shakes him a little in a strange display of gratitude before she rushes off. Several faculty members call out to her, but Ava ignores them all. Her heart is beating in her ears and there’s a tightness in her chest that constricts with every step.

   The inn has never felt more far away.

   The innkeeper almost reaches for his gun when Ava storms in, wild looking and anxious, asking about a ‘cowboy’. He grunts that there’s ‘some feller’ like that, but he’s out.

   “Do you know when he’ll be back?” Ava’s barely got her breathing under control and her words sound crazed.

   “Is my face red?”

   “Excuse me?”

   The innkeeper rolls his eyes. “Is. My. Face. Red?”

   “…no? It ain’t. Look mister, I just need-”

   “My face ain’t red, he ain’t up my ass. Get out of here before you scare my customers away.”

   She could smack him, reputation and her standing with the university be damned. But he’s not the first man to treat her so rudely; certainly, won’t be the last either. And she’s got more important things to worry about. But if the door happens to close a little “loudly” behind her on the way out, then that’s fair enough, she reckons.

   The streets are busy with men in suits and women in pretty dresses and accessories. Ava often forgets that she also wears suitable dresses and accessories, too much the outlaw and never really a lady. But it’s because of the fine suits and lovely dresses that Ava can’t help but spot the odd one out. He’s not even trying to hide the rugged, road-weary clothes and guns at his hips. Despite living among and looking like the high-class folk, Ava cannot help but think this rough-n-ready looking man is the only one who looks normal.

   Her heart stops.

   People shriek and jump back as Ava barrels down the road.

   Arthur’s standing there with a smile growing on his face as he realizes who’s running at him. He throws his arms open and barely budges when Ava launches herself at him. It doesn’t matter that there are people staring. Not when Arthur’s arms are holding her tight and she can hear the smile in his breathing. Not when he’s here, solid and warm and so very real.

   “Ava,” he breathes into the skin of her neck. It’s gentle, his voice, like he’s afraid of being too loud and scaring off this dream. Ava’s chest is so full of happiness that she can hardly breathe, let alone say anything. She’s got one hand splayed across his broad back, pressing him as close as her shaking muscles can manage. The other threads through his hair and plays with the soft strands.

   After the hug ends, a long while later, they stick close; hovering like hummingbirds at pretty flowers. She’s close enough to notice all the new freckles on his face, the clean shave on his chin that only a barber can do, and the scent of honey and lilac soap.

   “You smell good,” she says, after almost three years of being apart.

   Arthur smiles. Then he laughs, it’s a little broken and pained but it’s still a laugh. His big, warm hands cup either side of Ava’s face and pulls her closer. She thinks he’s going to kiss her. But he doesn’t. He just strokes his thumbs across her skin and stares at her. Arthur stares like he’s never seen anything good in his life and Ava’s the first kind thing to come into view.

   “It’s you.” He says lowly, his voice deeper than she remembers. It’s soft and rough at the same time; the same way Arthur’s always been. “My Ava.”

 

 

~

 

 

   It takes a while for them to finally move off the footpath. Some older gentlewoman harrumphed at them loud enough to startle Arthur into a blushing mess. He made is apologies while Ava fought back a grin. She said nothing about the mad blush on his cheeks as they made their way to the park.

   Arthur keeps tripping over his own feet, too preoccupied with looking at Ava and not on the road ahead. She loops her arm around his and prays his larger body won’t drag her down too. He’s too much in a daze, still in disbelief that Ava’s really here, so he asks her about her studies and watches her with that smile only Arthur seems to manage.

    “You’d think the law would be straightforward. But then you got all these clauses and exceptions as well as laws and punishments for each different state.”

   “That sounds like a whole lotta bullshit if you ask me.”

   “You’re not wrong. You should hear how Henry complains, on and on about how there should be one set of rules for everybody. Like that’ll ever happen.”

   “Who’s Henry?

   “A friend. Kind of arrogant, cocky, thinks he’s smarter than me. Could give Dutch a run for his money on speeches.”

   “Sounds like a charmer.”

   “He’s an ass. I got other friends, like Missy and Diana. Laura and Victor too. You should come meet my friends!”

   “Your friends? Really?”

   “Yes, really. Is it that surprising that I can make friends?”

   “With your calm demeanour and sweet-self? I’m surprised you ain’t the most popular girl in this town.”

   “Shut up,” she huffs with a punch to his arm. “How’s everyone else? You all keeping alright?”

   “Yeah, everything’s pretty much the same. Annabelle’s been pushing for the gang to settle down somewhere, Hosea likes the idea too, now that him and Bessie are getting older.”

   “Settling down? Like… get a house?”

   “One house for all of us? We’d have it torn down in a week. Nah, Dutch is looking at buying a big plot of land for us all, make a little community for us.”

   “Sounds cultish.”

   “You said it, not me.”

   “And how’s John? Still an idiot?”

   “A cocky little idiot. Thinks he knows everything.”

   “Sounds like you.”

   “I weren’t that annoying.”

   “Mhm.”

   “Shut up.” The sun is out, and the breeze is nice. Ava takes a moment to enjoy it, to enjoy how good Arthur looks in the sunshine. She thinks back to Laura’s question on her birthday, two years ago, and now she knows. “You gonna tell me what else you been up to, huh? Gang business hasn’t changed much. I’m sure you’ve got a whole bunch of stories.”

   “Not really. Any time I’m not reading or hanging out with my friends, I’m studying law. Also took on some medical papers. It’s a lot easier learn about human bodies than humans in general. But the bastards wouldn’t let me have them, at first.”

   “How’d you get around that? Steal ‘em?”

   “I was gonna! But then I remembered what Hosea taught me.”

   “What, you got them drunk and then made them sign something?”

   “Ha! That would’ve been funny. But no, I learned their game.”

   “What game?”

   Ava can’t bite back the bitter sarcasm in her voice. “The men at the university all believe that women shouldn’t be educated like them. That all a woman should know is how to run a house, serve their husband and raise children.”

   “That sounds about right-ow!” Arthur rubs his arm where Ava punched him again. She knows it was a joke, just like he knows she’s not really mad.

   “A woman has got more to give, Arthur Morgan. But I learned their game and played it to my advantage. I told them I wanted to know doctoring stuff so I could take care of my husband and kids in the future. Then they couldn’t give the papers to me fast enough.”

   “Just like that?”

   “Just like that.”

   “Damn…”

   Ava nudges Arthur’s shoulder with hers before she freezes. “Shit.”

   “What?” He’s on alert as quick as Ava is. He crowds her, like a shield, and Ava doesn’t miss the way his hand goes to his hip.

   “I was supposed to be studying with the others.”

   To say that Arthur looks confused is an understatement. “Studying?” He deflates while he tries to process. It would be funny if it didn’t make Ava realize how much she has changed, her priorities and concerns compared to Arthurs. Where he was worried about danger, Ava worried over her stupid paper.

   “Say, what’re you doing this evening?”

   “Tonight? Nothing. I ah…I had no plans other than finding you to be honest.”

   “Really?” Arthur nods, not bothering to hide his embarrassment from her. “Well, congratulations, you found me.”

   “I think you found me first.”

   “Put it down to female intuition. But tonight, after we’re done studying, my friends and I are heading down to the bar for dinner. Will you join us? You don’t have to if you don’t want to. But I thought that-”

   Arthur’s hand is suddenly on her own and Ava realizes that she’s been digging her nails into the back of her hand. “Of course I’ll come with you.”

   Just like that, her worry is gone, and that idea of studying doesn’t sound so bad if it means Arthur will be there afterwards. She wonders how he’ll react to her friends; people who are so unlike their family. There’s a smile on Ava’s face and Arthur can’t decide whether he likes it or fears it. 

 

 

~

 

 

   Arthur is already at the bar when Ava and her friends arrive. They’re all drained from the endless readings and questions that they’ve run around for hours. But as soon as Ava catches sight of Arthur, sitting a little awkwardly among upper class patrons, all her energy suddenly returns. Arthur seems to brighten upon seeing her too.

   “You’re here,” she cheers, racing over to hug him. It earns them a few stares but neither can bring themselves to care. “New shirt?”

   “Annabelle bought it for me, said I should have at least one nice shirt.”

   “She ain’t wrong. Here, these are the friends I was telling you about.” The introductions are quick and polite. Although, both Missy and Henry can’t keep the suspicion off their faces. But Laura, Diana and Victor are pleased to meet the mysterious cowboy. They order a round of drinks and as much food as they can manage.

   The others try to ask Arthur about himself and how he knows Ava which involves him and Ava exchanging plenty of looks and a lot of misdirection. Soon enough, thankfully, the conversation turns back to their studies and Arthur sits contentedly and listens.

   While Arthur questions the others on their practice and papers, Laura leans closer to Ava and nudges her arm.

   “You look like you are enjoying yourself,” Laura says with a look in her eye that Ava can’t quite guess.

   “Surrounded by friends and food, who wouldn’t?”

   “Your friend, Mr Morgan, he looks quite happy.”

   “Does he? I’m glad.”

   “You’re happy, too.”

   “Yeah… I am.”

   “Would I be wrong in saying that it has more to do with Arthur than anything else?”

   “… No, I guest not. It’s been so long since I’ve seen him. Feels like a part of me I didn’t notice was gone has come back.”

   Laura’s quiet for a moment, taking a sip of her wine like it holds some sort of answer; or maybe a question. “He’s the one?”

   There’s a voice in her head, one that sounds suspiciously like Hosea’s, telling her to play it cool and aloof, to let Laura give up her cards before Ava plays one. Arthur’s important to her, and so is his importance, and part of her doesn’t want to give the information up. But Laura’s looking at her like she already knows, and Ava ignores the voice in her head.

   “Yeah… yeah, it’s him.”

   “Hmm, you were wrong, by the way.”

   “Oh? I’m not usually wrong. What’re you on about?”

   “You said he might’ve been handsome. But there’s no question about it.”

   “Competition for Thomas?”

   “Not at all, and not with the way Mr Morgan looks at you.”

   “With his eyes?”

   “You ass.”

   She looks over at Arthur who’s trying his best to keep up with Henry and Missy, with the occasional assist from Victor and Diana. When he does look back at Ava, he smiles for a second before he realizes something and frowns. He turns away before Ava can question it. For the rest of the evening, despite joining in with her friends’ conversations and debates, Ava can’t help the nagging feeling in the back of her head. Arthur’s frown replays over and over in her mind and it has her so on edge that even alcohol can’t help.

   They leave close to midnight when Diana remembers the university’s curfew with a loud gasp. But they’ve been drinking more than they normally would. Instead of rushing back, they lot of them stumble over themselves just to get out of the bar. Victor has Diana and Missy keeping his lanky form upright and Henry and Ava end up trying to steady the other. Arthur seems to be the only one sober enough, so he’s left to carry Laura who fell asleep at the table.

   They group splits into two, Henry goes with Diana, Missy and Victor, since their domiciles are in the same directions. Henry takes hold of Ava’s arm for a moment.

   “Will you three be alright?”

   “Yeah, Arthur’s strong as a workhorse. Besides, Laura weighs next to nothing.”

   “If you get caught sneaking in with a man…”

   “I’m pretty good at sneaking around.”

   “I believe that.” They laugh quietly and a grin spreads across Henry’s face. “Thanks for a fun evening, Miss Munroe.”

   “Same to you, Mr Sharpe.” Henry looks at her for a moment longer before looking over to Arthur.

   “It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr Morgan. I hope to see you around again soon.”

   “Same here. Next time, I’ll take you boys out, show you how to have a real good time.”

   “No! Absolutely not!” Ava points accusingly at Arthur, equal parts jesting and serious. She remembers the last time Arthur had had a ‘real good time’ with the boys. Dutch had

a field-day after busting the boys out. The camp had never been more organized. 

   There’s a chorus of ‘goodnight’ and ‘goodbye’ as they part ways. The streets are pretty quiet and Ava and Arthur take their time. She knows a way in that’s hardly monitored.

   “I liked them.” Arthur says after a way, carrying Laura without any trouble.

   “Hm?”

   “Your friends… I liked them.”

   “You did?” Arthur nods. “Good. I like them too.”

   They manage to sneak inside the building without waking up their warden. But it’s getting Laura into bed that’s difficult. When Ava offers to get Laura out of her dress and shoes, Laura suddenly turns into a puppy wanting to play. They literally have to chase her around the room and pray that their neighbours are too exhausted from studying to be awake. When Arthur finally gets a hold of Laura’s shoulders, Ava knocks the back of her head with her hand. Laura slumps forward and Arthur catches her, just.

   “The hell did you do that for?” He asks, readjusting his grip on Laura.

   Ava shrugs. “She’s gonna wake up with a headache anyway and it stopped her, didn’t it?”

   Arthur looks at her like he’s not sure whether to yell or laugh. He opts for shaking his head, not bothering to hide his fond grin. They get Laura into bed quickly after that and they take a seat on Ava’s bed on the other side of the room. It’s in a quiet moment that Ava notices the troubled look on Arthur’s face and she suddenly remembers his frown.

   “Care to share with the class?” She doesn’t intend for her voice to sound so small. Quiet, because of Laura, but not small. Not in any way that would make Arthur worry.

   “Yeah,” he says with a sigh. “There’s a lot I’ve wanted to talk to you about. So much, Ava.”

   He tells her about Mary, about how he met her in town one day and she was the loveliest thing he’d seen in a while. About how she laughed at his stupid jokes and posturing, how her hand would find his arm more often than not. He recalls how the first several months were like a dream; always happy and pleasant without conflict or concern.

   He then talks about Mary’s family, her father and brother. Ava likes the idea of the brother, but Mary’s father can rot for all Ava cares. She listens as Arthur bounces back between anger and humour as he talks about how conflicted Mary became and how awful, just godawful, her father was. There’s bitterness in Arthur’s voice when he talks about the two years he and Mary had and how it ultimately ended. Not pretty, not pleasant.

   “You love her?”

   “I _did_. But now…” Ava thought she’d be jealous. That, even though Arthur’s never really been hers, the fact that he was willing to propose to this Mary would rile up her own anger. Instead, she can’t help but match Arthur’s quiet, sombre mood. Her hand finds his and Arthur holds it like he’s got nothing else he’d rather hold.

   As Arthur runs his thumb over the back of Ava’s hand, he hisses in a breath at the sight of her moon-shaped scars. She tries to take it back, to hide her weakness, but Arthur isn’t having it. What Arthur does next almost melts every angry, hardened part of her that life has twisted inside of her. He brings her hand up to his mouth and presses gentle kisses to each and every scar.

   “Arthur…”

   “Miss Grimshaw was right.”

   “Excuse me?”

   “Susan, she…I could never ask Mary to marry me, never knew why. But Susan... She kept telling me to wait until you were back. That everything would make some sort of sense. And after seeing you, I get what she meant.”

   “And?”

   “It’s you, Ava. It’s always been you.”

   Ava’s read a hundred books, a thousand almost, and in so many, she’d read of moments like these. About how people’s hearts got stuck in their throats or as if their stomachs were full of bugs. She’d thought it ridiculous, impossible, but now she’s here. Now, her heart is beating too fast for her breath to catch up, her stomach feels like its twisted into a knot and Arthur is the one sitting in front of her.

   She can’t help but smile. Ava leans forward and kisses Arthur like she’s always wanted to, like it’s meant to be. Arthur makes a quiet little noise in the back of his throat before kissing her back. He tastes like whiskey and cigarettes and he’s got some of Laura’s perfume lingering on him from when he carried her.

   “So,” Arthur says, a little breathless but blissful. He’s got that wide, crooked grin that makes Ava weak at the knees. “You and me?”

   “It’s been you and me from the start, Arthur. And it’ll be you and me at the end.”

   He nods, smiles, then kisses Ava over and over. It’s different this time, like there’s nothing holding him back. No guilt or fear. His rough hands, hands that she’s seen beat men to a mess of bruises and blood, hands that have held all sorts of guns and knives, hands that have choked the life out of an unfortunate few, are so gentle when he holds her. One of them cradles the back of Ava’s head as he coaxes and teases her mouth with his, while the other is tentative on her hip.

   When his tongue slips past her lips, Ava barely hides her breathy moan. It makes her cheeks burn at how easily it falls from her mouth. But then Arthur’s groaning and holding her closer. Harder. Her own hands grip his shirt but then one slips down his torso and along his thigh and she doesn’t miss the way that Arthur’s legs part a little more. She thinks of sliding her hand higher, to where she knows he’ll enjoy; the same area of her own body is already beginning to ache.

   “Ava,” he moans, crowding into her space as he readjusts his grip on her. Ava pulls him closer, shifting so her knees are either side of his hips as he leans her back towards the bed.

   There’s a rustle, and then a sniff, that has them both freezing.

   Laura rolls over in her sleep, huffing like she’s annoyed. Then she’s quiet, still, and Ava and Arthur release the breaths they were holding. Ava has to clamp her hand over her mouth to stifle her giggle. It’s then that she realizes how close Arthur is, how they’re positioned, and the heat returns to her cheeks. Arthur shuffles back, moving to sit beside her again. His cheeks are pink too.

   “I ah- I should go, before someone comes and checks on you.” He rubs the back of his neck, unable to hide the nerves in his voice.

   Ava deflates a little, the rush from their actions cooling quickly. “Can I come see you tomorrow?”

   “Of course. We can meet in the park, if that’s okay?”

   “More than okay.”

   Arthur kisses her once more, a quick press, and then he’s gone out the door.

   Part of her wants to go after him, to ride out of town and head back home to the gang. But then she looks over at Laura whose cheeks are all squished up and her blanket tucked right up to her nose. The gang is her family, her home, yet there is also family here.

   Having Arthur here has been the best thing to happen to her in these three years. It’s healed a part of her heart that she’s tried to ignore. But she’s got something good here too, people and opportunity. And she’s got something to finish. So, as Ava settles down to sleep, still buoyed by Arthur’s surprise visit, she resolves to finish this part of her life as best she can. Because she’ll go home either way, always has planned that, and having that certainty makes her certain for her future; immediate and distant.

 

 

_TBC_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bam. She done. She long but she done.   
> So am I.   
> Let me know what you thought, it helps me know if this is making sense and going well.   
> Thanks again for reading, you're awesome. 
> 
> See you in the next one :)


	9. to home, to you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ava says her goodbyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have literally had the last paragraph of this chapter written for weeks before busting out the rest tonight in two hours.   
> There will be mistakes.  
> Will I fix them?   
> Maybe.   
> Who's to say? 
> 
> Enjoy

The morning comes and everything feels normal. Except that it isn’t.

   When Ava wakes up, she’s greeted to an empty room. The final tests were done and dusted by last week and Laura left soon after. There was a small window for her to visit her family back in France before starting her job in Boston. Thomas had earned a position in a firm there and Laura was more than happy to follow her fiancé.

   The night before she left, everyone had gathered for one last dinner together. For the most part, it had been a celebration over completing their degrees, for finishing the school year and for surviving their final tests. And if they had all lingered and meandered together long after the dinner, well into the night, then that was counted as a sort of celebration too. Celebrating the years of friendship and support, their joy over exciting new futures, and promises of keeping in touch.

   That night, Ava and Laura had stayed awake in their room, lying on Ava’s bed, talking about anything and everything until sleep crept up on them. Then, tired and emotional, Ava had walked Laura to the train station.

   Laura sobbed when she saw everyone waiting for her.

   Ava only cried when she finally made it back to their room; empty and lonely.

   Today, however, Ava is both ready and unprepared to leave. Most of her stuff was sent ahead to a station further out west, leaving her with a single bag. Today she has plans with Diana. With her train getting in during mid-afternoon, Ava’s got all day with her.

   Ava meets Diana at their favourite restaurant, ordering tea and a myriad of sweets. Ava pays for the lot with money she nicked from a drunkard who got too handsy one night in the bar. Diana talks about her plans, how she’s going to wait for Victor to get back before they travel to Boston too. They’ve got an apartment in the same building as Laura and Thomas and Ava’s glad for that. Two of her good friends in one spot.

   “Will you get a job as a lawyer?” Ava asks, around a bit of cake. Diana rolls her eyes but says nothing about Ava’s slip in manners.

   “No, probably not. Unlike you and Missy, I’m not the type to fight the system.”

   “I’m sure Missy will fight enough for all of us.”

   “I hope so. And I hope she finds someone to balance that passion of hers.”

   “Hmm.” Missy had left yesterday, demanding no fluff and nonsense at her send-off. But she had accepted each hug and kiss without complaint, barely hiding her teary eyes.

   “And you, Ava? What’s instore for my outlaw friend?”

   “Probably more outlaw shenanigans. First, I’ll be getting back to the gang, then it'll most likely be travelling.”

   “And you’ll marry Arthur at some point?”

   “Maybe,” Ava mumbles, trying and failing to hide her burning cheeks.

   Diana smiles, wide and beautifully, and says, “If you do, I hope I’m invited to the wedding.”

   “If it does happen, it won’t be much. Probably just getting drunk around camp and waking up sick.”

   “Still, I’d like to be there.”

   “Only if I get to come to yours.”

   “Of course! And I’m sure Laura will expect you at her own wedding in the future.”

   “Yeah, in the future…”

   The continue talking over cakes and tea, trying their best to avoid any more mentions of the future. They’re not ready, and it feels like if they look beside them, it’ll be right there. Unavoidable.

   They leave after a while, when the restaurant becomes too stuffy. The midday air is warm but there’s a slight breeze that freshens their lungs.

   Diana squeezes Ava’s arm before waving the other. “Henry! Over here!”

   On the footpath on the other side of the road is Henry, carrying with him a large suitcase. He looks both ways before dashing across the road, lugging the case with him. Ava almost warns him not to trip, the case looking about ready to pull him over, but he’s in front of them before she can open her mouth.

   “Miss Dianna, Miss Ava. I’m glad I caught you.”

   “You’re off,” Diana asks, already frowning. Henry nods. “I thought you were staying in town for longer.”

   “Afraid not. My father already has work for me, and it was either the train today or next week. Time stops for no one, it seems.”

   “It’s catching up on all of us.” Ava says, trying to swallow down her panic. Her fingers itch to dig her nails into her skin, to focus on something manageable. “My train is this afternoon.”

   “So soon? This really is all coming to and end, huh?”

   “Sadly.”

   Diana stares at both of them before announcing, “If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I forgot something inside.” Diana doesn’t bother to hide her smile before heading back inside, practically skipping.

   “Ava,” Henry says suddenly and Ava startles.

   She turns back to him and blurts out in the same tone, “Henry.”

   They stare at each other for a moment before laughing. There’s a tension between them, one side straining while the other pushes away; always has been. She knows his feelings, even without the longing look in Henry’s eyes. But he knows her feelings too, even without her tense smile.

   Laughing feels like as good a way to ease the tension as any.

   Henry’s voice is stronger when he asks, “You’re heading out today, too?”

   “I am, though, I’m heading out west.”

   “I see.”

   “And you’ll be heading back south to see your parents?”

   “They own their own firm. I’ll stay there a bit and then see where the wind takes me.”

   “Going with the wind good.”

   “I’ll take your word.”

   “Good.”

   “Good.”

   Another pause follows. The rest of the city carries on around them as they try their best to find the right words.

   Ava opens her mouth to say something the same time Henry does. He tries again just as she does, before they laugh hopelessly.

   “You’d think saying goodbye would be easy,” she says, a little frustrated at herself.

   “You’d hope so. But I find it’s one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done.”

   Ava thinks for a moment, back to her goodbyes at the train station a lifetime ago. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

   “I hope we can see each other again soon. All of us. Once the wind settles down.”

   “That’s my hope as well. Though, I doubt the wind will settle any time soon where I’m going.”

   “Ah, yes, your life of outlawing.” She told him that a while ago and he had laughed and smiled like he was entertaining her, not believing it for a second.

   “You asked, I answered. It’s up to you whether you believe me or not.”

   “Alright, alright.” Henry pauses for a few seconds, losing any joviality in his eyes. He takes her hand in his and Ava waits patiently. “Then, I wish you luck and safety, Ava. No matter what you do in life, or where you go, I wish you the best. As your friend.” Henry leans down and, very gently, places a kiss on Ava’s cheek. “Goodbye, Ava. It’s been great learning with you.”

   “And you, Henry. I wish the best for you too. And I’ll see you soon enough.”

   “I’m sure Missy won’t let you skip out on a reunion.”

   Then Henry is stepping away and walking towards his future. Ava waves him off, smiling until she cannot see him. It hurts, she knows, and Ava doesn’t bother to hide the few tears that sneak past when Diana returns to her side.

   “He’s a good man, our Henry.” Diana states as she slips her arm into Ava’s.

   “He is. It’s a shame he only came second in our class.”

   “That’s because you came first, Ava.”

   “I did, didn’t I?” Ava chuckles at the elbow Diana digs into her side before making their way down the street. The pain is still there. But, with Diana beside her, it’s easier to manage.

   The two ladies spend the rest of the day arm in arm, walking about the city as they talk about anything and everything. They each smile more often than not, trying their best to distract themselves from the elephant in the room. Ava’s always loved that expression, especially when she got John to ask Hosea what business an elephant had in a room and the frustration that followed.

   Ava tells Diana that story, and the one about Mac getting stuck downstream without his pants. She skips over the robberies and the pickpocketing and Diana has the good grace not to inquire. This way, it feels like a fantasy, rather than reality.

   But then reality stands before them in the shape of the train station. Neither of them moves for the longest time as streams of bodies and bags move past them.

   Diana moves first. Her arms wrap around Ava’s shoulders and brings her in for a hug. Ava holds her back just as tightly, burying her face into Diana’s shoulder. Neither know who started crying first. There was a weak sound from someone’s throat and then there were tears. A few bystanders give them sympathetic looks and nothing more.

   It feels like the edge. The edge of one life just before another begins. They’re not ready, to let go or for this new life or both. Ava clutches tighter and Diana squeezes back. There’s a promise, in this new life, to meet again. But there’s also a promise of so much more and nothing at all. So, they hug. Because it’s the only thing two young ladies know how to do when something good comes to an end.

   When Ava kisses her friend goodbye, Diana smiles and promises to write. Ava promises too. Because she will, that’s one thing she’s certain of in this new life that’s about to begin. Despite the gang, the robberies, the constant moving, she’ll write to Diana. She will.

   When Diana leaves, Ava makes her way to the platform, ticket and bag in hand. She feels numb, drained, and ready for nothing and everything. She’s stuck between one life ending and another all by herself. Part of her wants to be scared, to feel something; even if it is fear. Unable to bring herself to do even that, Ava stands there and waits.

   She barely flinches when a hand lands on her shoulder.

   “There you are.”

   A smile comes to her face before Ava even sees who it is. She’d know that voice anywhere, in this life or the next. Looking down at her, with a shy half-smile, is her past, present and future.

   “What you doing here, among civilization, Arthur?”

   “I’m here to take you home.”

   Home. He says it so plainly. That word sounds like a manageable thing in Arthur’s voice, not a concept that she’s been missing for years.

   “Finally.”

   She doesn’t think of the gang, when Arthur says ‘home’. She doesn’t think of a particular place, either. The only thing in her mind is him, her gunslinging, fool hearted, endlessly loyal Arthur; the boy who was helped raise her, and the man who she can’t live without.

   Home isn’t a place, or the gang, anymore.

   It’s Arthur. 

 

 

_TBC_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for read. 
> 
> Next chapter: frick  
> this is your warning. 
> 
> See you in the next one :)


End file.
